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"And where ith Buthter going to thleep?" "In the middle." "That ith all right. I don't withh to be too clothe to her. We might thquabble all night." "Now, Tommy, you first," nodded Harriet. Tommy took her place on the canvas with great care, gathering her skirts about her, turning around and around as if in search of the softest possible place on which to lie.
"That is to be our next," Miss Elting informed them. "By the time we have finished that I think we shall be seasoned mountain climbers." "Yeth. And we'll have the habit so badly that we'll be climbing telephone poleth every day when we get home," averred Tommy. "I withh my father could thee me now. He wouldn't thay hith little girl wath lathy, would he?"
Harriet and Jane supported her to a blanket that they had brought from the tent, and, after tucking her in, left the unfortunate Margery to doze and rest. Tommy crept over and kissed her on the forehead. "I'm tho thorry, Buthter," she whispered sympathetically. "I withh it might have been me who got the bump on the head. But never mind; you will be better pretty thoon. Don't you think tho?"
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