On the first day of July Little-wee Pig slipped quietly up behind Mother Grunty and gave the strings of her starched gingham apron a vigorous tug. "Know what day it is, Mumsie?" he asked as he peeked around to see his mother's face.

"Yes—why it's—Wednesday, isn't it?" answered Mother Grunty, who was too busy measuring baking soda for corn cakes to give much thought to questions.

"Yes, 'course it's Wednesday. But I don't mean that. I mean it's the first day of July."

"Yes, yes, I guess it is. And we haven't yet torn June from the calendar," chuckled Mother Grunty as she went to the pantry to get the sour cream jug.

"Well, but Mother! Don't you know that in three days it will be the Fourth of July! And we haven't a single firecracker or anything!"

"Oh-h!" It seemed to Little-wee as though his mother was dreadfully slow in replying, "Well, let's see. I suppose we had better have a picnic."

"Oh! a picnic! Who said picnic!" interrupted Blacky-ears as he bounded in through the open door.

"You do startle me so when you jump at me that way, Blacky-ears," said Mother Grunty a trifle crossly.

"Never mind, Mumsie. I'm sorry—honest I am,—but where's the picnic?"

"Wait a minute, Blacky. We don't know yet. Mother was just saying we might have one on the Fourth of July," broke in Little-wee.

The arrival of the grocery cart cut short all plans, but they must have been discussed later, for at nine o'clock on the morning of the Fourth a well-packed lunch basket stood on Mother Grunty's kitchen table. And upstairs, with many gigglings and much wriggling, the Grunty family put on their picnic togs and prepared for a wonderful day.

When, at ten o'clock, the car that was to take them to the lake stopped at their corner, the three were hailed with many welcome shouts. For Mother Grunty and Mother Rooty, who were very good friends, had planned a real picnic party and had promised to care for thirty excited piglets.

Do you wonder that they laughingly told each other that they would have no idle minutes that day?

The ride in the open car was wonderfully cool and very pretty. At the first sight of the lake such a shout arose that the motorman turned quickly to see what the trouble could be. But when he saw the thirty happy, excited faces his shoulders shook with laughter as he said to himself, "Carried folks over this hill for twenty years now and never heard such a fuss over the sight of a little water!"

When the car was empty of the last little pig, and every basket, box and bundle had been carefully placed on a picnic table that stood near by, Mother Rooty took charge of all the hats while Mother Grunty arranged for some amusement.

"Now Curly-tail and Spotty may be leaders and choose sides. When you are all equally divided, we can play any games you like."

"I'll choose Little-wee," piped up Spotty, and before many minutes fifteen excited little piggies faced fifteen other equally excited little pigs.

"Now, Spotty, what does your side choose to play? How many want to play hide and seek?"

Only two little heads nodded; so, of course, hide and seek was forgotten.

"How about Farmer in the Dell?"

This time every head bobbed up and down vigorously, and a merry circle, with Blacky-ears in the center,—for someone had to be the farmer, you know—sang lustily,

And Curly-tail's chosen ones were not far behind, for even before the farmer could "choose his wife," a cheery, "Here we go round the mulberry bush" vied with the farmer-song.

Now Mother Grunty and Mother Rooty were not idle. Baskets had to be emptied of their goodies, fresh water had to be carried from the spring, and lemons had to be squeezed. It seemed to the two mothers that never before had such a feast been spread.

"We'll have to carry home half of these good things," exclaimed Mother Rooty, as she stood by, looking down at the table full of dainties.

"Call them all and see what they can do," smiled Mother Grunty who, being the mother of two husky piglets, could guess what an amount thirty hungry piggies could eat.

And what do you think! Just what do you think that table looked like a half-hour later? If you have been to picnics perhaps you know, but I had better tell you that except for a few crumbs and a very little lemonade in one glass, that table was bare.

As Mother Rooty gathered up dishes and silverware she laughed to herself. "I never would have brought half enough if I had had the planning of the lunch," she told Mother Grunty.

"We're going in bathing now," called several little pigs, as they came up to the tables once more. "You said we might, you know," urged Little-wee, as he saw his mother's look of disapproval.

"Yes, I promised, and you may do so later," explained Mother Grunty. "It is never safe to bathe for at least an hour after eating. You just play about until it is time for your swim."

"Oh, listen! listen! listen! There's the band playing! Oh! may we go over where the music is?" All this in such a jumble of voices!

"That is not a band. It sounds more like a merry-go-round, I should say," answered Mother Grunty, with a twinkle in her eye.

"Oh goody, goody! Oh goody, goody!" sang Little-wee. For Little-wee never could be very much delighted without breaking into his favorite jingle.

So, gathering up all the baggage, off they went. And Mother Grunty was right; the very merriest kind of merry-go-round was just ready to start on another "trip."

I just know you can guess what happened next. Yes, they all jumped on. And, luckily, that merry-go-round could carry just thirty piglets! After the first ride another was demanded, and then another and still another, though they were warned that there would be no time for the play in the lake. But, do you know, it seemed as though that music just bewitched them!

If long, heavy, distant rumbles of thunder had not warned these merrymakers, no telling how long they would have kept whirling. But with the storm sending down large, splashy raindrops the picnickers hurried for the trolley station.

The ride home was lots of fun, for the car was closed to keep out the rain. "Let's sing 'Merrily We Roll Along,'" someone suggested. And sing they did! Not even could the thunder be heard!

Fathers and big brothers, carrying raincoats and umbrellas enough for all, waited at the station as the trolley rolled into town.

"Haven't we had just the loveliest time!" exclaimed Little-wee, as the three Gruntys turned in at the doorway of the little brick house.

"Mother," asked Blacky-ears as they waited for the door to be unlocked—"Mother,—was Bad Boy Mischief there at the picnic?"

"I didn't see anything of him—not a glimpse all day. And that is a pretty good record when thirty little pigs go off for an all-day picnic!"