“We want six more for the war canoe,” shouted the swimming teacher from the stern of that long, graceful, dark blue vessel.

“Come on, Miss West.”

“Throw me a life preserver to sit on,—please—we’re going three in this canoe.”

“You and I, Frances,” said Marion.

“No, you and I, Marion,” firmly insisted another girl, both Frances and Marion yielding to avoid controversy.

“Four more for the war canoe,” from the megaphone again.

“All right, Betty,” said Hilary, “you and Cathalina go on in the war canoe,—they need more and it will be easier for you, I believe. Lil and I will take this one by ourselves. Do you want to paddle bow or stern, Lil?”

“I don’t care, Hilary.”

“You’re not quite so husky as I am, and stern will be hard for you if you aren’t used to it. I guess you’d better paddle bow.”

“Not for that reason, Hilary. Why should you take the hardest place?”

A good-natured squabble followed, in which Hilary won, settled Lilian in the bow and pushed the canoe out from the sands, jumping in at the stern. “I’ve got that dandy stroke that Mr. Clark showed me. It keeps the canoe going straight forward and you rest your paddle just a second on the edge, so it’s easier.” As Hilary spoke she gave the shore a final push with her paddle, and sent the canoe gliding smoothly into the deeper water.

“O, isn’t this fun? I just adore canoeing!”

“Adoration, exclamation, consummation,” murmured Lilian.

“Hesitation, coronation,—there are about a hundred of ’em if you are wanting a rhyme.”

One by one the pretty canoes were selected and launched. At first there was apparent confusion as the girls flitted hither and thither, choosing paddles and partners under the general oversight of the athletic director and swimming teacher, but at last the fleet was ready to depart.

The occasion was a picnic at Swan’s Island, a large island in Merrymeeting Bay. As this was the first real canoe trip of any length, only the good paddlers and swimmers were permitted to take out the canoes. The rest went in the Aeolus and Truant, while the Midget with a few passengers carried the lunch. Up to this time there had been instruction, and paddling within certain limits.

Aeolus and Truant led the way. The war canoe followed, with even strokes of the paddles, a great improvement over the first “ragtime” efforts. Then the other canoes, by ones and twos, swept out from shore to round the point into Merrymeeting Bay.

“Look out, Hilary, don’t go out too far. The current is awfully strong out there. Look at Eloise and Helen. My! Are they going to make it? They may have an upset if they are carried down to those rocks.”

Eloise, Evelyn and Helen had gone out too far from the Merrymeeting banks and were struggling against both current and tide, which was going out. But they paddled away, while the Midget was watching to see if they needed help, and had just started toward the girls when they drew out of the stronger current and came up to the other boats.

“Why did we start so late and against the tide?” asked Lilian.

“Didn’t you hear about the canoes? The men had to go after them this morning. The tide came up so high last night and the girls had not drawn them up high enough. Usually somebody goes down to see if everything is all right, but of course on the night of an unusually high tide it would be forgotten, by the ‘irony of fate’. Four canoes were missing.”

“Did they find them?”

“Yes; some of the Boothbay folks got them and took them in there.”

“Look at our flotilla, Hilary. The English fleet isn’t in it with us!”

“It is lovely, isn’t it? I just love these blue canoes. But ‘bucking the tide’ is no joke. This is hard work. However, think of the howl that would have gone up from one and all of us if we had had to give up the trip!”

“Don’t you wish we had Campbell along?”

“I do indeed, and for no sentimental reason either, Miss Lilian.”

On they paddled. Soon the launches were far in advance. The distance to the island seemed to increase. Eloise, Helen and Evelyn had caught up with Hilary and Lilian and shouted across occasionally.

“Look at Jenkie with Mr. Clark. Isn’t she lucky? See the way he paddles, and look at the way she just dips her oars. Listen, she’s calling.”

“Come on, girls; this isn’t hard.”

“O, no, Jenkie, not with Mistah Clahk to do the wuhk!” replied Evelyn.

For the first long pull it promised to be a hard one. But after the launches had reached the island and delivered passengers and cargo, the Truant returned to pick up girls that were too tired and tow their canoes to port.

The picnic went on as picnics do, but not all picnickers breathe the exhilarating air furnished by the Maine breezes. The girls were soon quite rested, though arms and shoulders might ache a little. Bathing suits and towels had been brought along for a good swim. The lunch was pronounced wonderful and good appetites made quick work of disposing of it. “Seconds” and “Thirds” were permitted for sandwiches and fruit. Some of the girls had brought books or magazines. Others had fancy work. Some looked for new birds or new flowers to add to their number of points. As all the common flowers had been brought in, each new flower counted a point. All the girls had helped gather wood for the fire. Ah, how much better bacon tastes cooked outdoors! Besides the fun, the consciousness of being able to paddle one’s own canoe, both literally and figuratively, was the chief result of this picnic, and every trip in this beautiful country made the girls love it more.

The paddle home was almost as hard as that to the island, for a wind came up, blew in their faces, and made the bay choppy. Tide again was against them. In the waves made by the wind and those from passing steamers all the skill of the paddlers was called into requisition. But the presence of the launches gave confidence to any of the girls who needed it, and the canoes rode the little white-capped waves most prettily.

“Send for Edna, Cathalina, to rub my back,” exclaimed Hilary stretched at length on her cot. “Bring on your Sloan’s liniment, Absorbine Junior and St. Jacob’s oil! Look out, Betty!”—as Betty plumped herself down by Hilary and began to rub a shoulder. “Deal gently, Elizabeth; how are your own arms?”

“There were so many to paddle in the war canoe; we hardly got tired a bit. But I’m just as hungry as if I hadn’t eaten three sandwiches and other things in proportion at the island.”

“So’m I. Dot has a birthday tonight, so we’ll have ice cream and cake. Maybe you will be asked to the birthday table, Hilary.”

“No, I don’t think so, too many little folks that Dot will want.”

“But she is so crazy about June.”

“True; but I’m not June. However, we’ll all have cake, even if it is not birthday cake.”

“The supper bell; O, joyful sound! Are the rest of you lame old ladies going to manage to get down to the dining-room on time?”

Hilary rose with exaggerated stiffness. “I’m going to apply for a position as special guide to take venturesome tourists through the St. Lawrence rapids in a canoe.”

The girls from Squirrels’ Inn were a little late in reaching the dining-room, though others were still gathering and the bell for order before grace had not yet rung. Dotty came dancing from the birthday table to show them her birthday bouquet.

“Isn’t it lovely? The camp mother made it. See? Every little flower is made of a dee-lish-shus piece of candy in the center, with all colors of paper for petals, and this lacy white paper to hold it all, twisted tinfoil and all! I wish I could have had you big girls at my table too.”

“Thank you, Dotty,” said Hilary, “it is just as it should be.”

The birthday table was especially decorated, with fresh bouquets and extra goodies which had been sent to Dorothy. Packages were piled at Dorothy’s place; happy faces surrounded the table. But the supreme moment was when the tables were cleared for the last course and Dot went over to the kitchen for her birthday cake. The girls watched as the candles were lit for her and the cake put into her hands. Slowly and carefully she walked, watching lest her green candles blow out, while the girls sang:

“Dorothy rah! Dorothy rah! Rah-rah, Dorothy!”

“Did you notice her name on the frosting?—Dorothy, in cinnamon drops.”

“Yes, Isabel, I certainly did,” said Virgie. “I never had a birthday celebration in my life. I wish my birthday came in camp time.”

“When does it come?”

“September first! Not even in school time!”

“My, what a pity. You could almost have one.”

“I’ve half a mind to change it, put it in August some time. Why not?” asked Virgie, laughing.

“There was a girl that did that once,” said Frances. “She went clear through with it, then somebody told.”

“What did they do to her?”

“Nothing. They were too kind.”

“I suppose she wanted it so awfully. But mercy, I’m having too many kinds of good times that I never dreamed of having a year ago not to be able to stand not having a birthday cake.”

“We’ll just have a celebration at school for you. Our first feast shall be in your honor.”

“I thank you!” and Virgie bowed formally. “Patty said that we have four birthdays on the same day next week with four separate birthday cakes. Maybe we’ll get a taste of one yet, Isabel.”