It was the day set for the picnic by the lake. Two little white gowns, and the boys’ best coats, and the ribbons and the neck-ties, had been joyfully laid out the night before.

But next morning it was not picnic weather. The sky was low and heavy. By nine o’clock there were thick, dense, black clouds.

“I think we might go,” said Flossie, “even if it does rain. We go to school, lots o’ days, when it rains.”

Just then the big black raindrops fell upon the window-panes—“A great pailful in every drop,” said Tom.

“I want a picnic,” wailed Susie, “and I can’t have it.”

“You shall have it,” said papa; “we will have an indoors picnic, such as my papa used to give me on a rainy day.”

He led the way to the library. He took down a huge set of maps, a great portfolio of engravings, and two or three heavy picture books. “We will visit India,” said he.

“Hurrah,” said Tom. “Tiger hunts, elephant rides, jungles, snake charmers, jolly old idols, and the Parsee merchants.”

Tom knew very well what it meant when papa gave his mind up to turning over picture books and talking as he turned.

They did have a good time; and before three o’clock it cleared away, and though it was too late for the picnic they had planned, it was the most perfect picnic weather, and as papa wanted to trim up cedars on the knoll by the lake, they all went down. Papa and mamma played with them for a while like an older brother and sister. They harnessed the children in a “four-horse team,” and drove up and down until the “little colts” had had enough of fun and were glad to sit in the arbor and watch papa trim trees.

A PICNIC AFTER ALL.