Mr. Tucker's promise of a visit did all that I knew it would for Dum. She worked off her demerits without a murmur; studied her lessons diligently; soon caught up in her classes; and was altogether an exemplary Dum.

If his promise of a visit worked such wonders, his visit completed the miracle. We had already come through our mid-year examinations, some with flying colors and some with tattered banners like the poor Confederate flags that you see in the Valentine Museum in Richmond,—but the thing was that we were through and none of our little crowd of cronies had failed. Annie Pore carried off the honors in Latin, thanks to the drilling she had been brought up on by the severe Oxford graduate. Dum was easily first in mathematics. Dee seemed to know the physiology off by heart. History was Mary Flannigan's forte and not a date from Noah's flood to the San Francisco earthquake could stump her. Literature was what most interested me, and it would have been silly not to get an honor when it did seem so easy.

We were rather proud of our achievements as a coterie of chums, and Miss Peyton, as a reward of merit, let all of us go to the station to meet Mr. Tucker, accompanied by Miss Cox.

How good it was to see him! I believe I was almost as glad as Tweedles. He looked very boyish indeed as he swung off the Pullman, a suitcase in one hand and a great basket, neatly covered with purple paper, in the other.

"I know what that purple paper means," cried Dee from afar. "He's been to Schmidt's and that basket's full of goodies."

So he had, and, Zebedee like, had a proposition for pleasure. I have seldom seen Mr. Tucker that he did not have some scheme on hand for amusement for someone, and the best thing about it was that he usually was ready to partake of the fun himself; and his partaking of it meant there was twice as much fun as there would have been without him.

"There's skating on the lake surely?" he asked.

"Yes! Yes!" in chorus.

"Well, come along, and I'll get permission from your Lord High Executioner to take all of you skating, and we'll have supper on the bank. What do you say to that, Jinny?"

"Splendid! I haven't skated for years, though."

"Have you got your skates?"

"Oh, yes; you see this is all the home I have, so I've got everything I possess here."

"And you girls? All of you have skates that fit and shoes to skate in?"

"Yes! Yes!" And off we went, the gayest crowd imaginable. Of course Miss Peyton let us go. No one had ever refused Mr. Tucker anything in reason, I am sure, nor had he ever asked for anything out of reason.

"Will you have enough food for such a crowd? Had you not better come back to Gresham to supper?" asked Miss Peyton.

"Never fear. I have food enough for a dozen boys. I'll take good care of all of them and bring them back at bedtime."

There was another crowd on the lake when we got there: a party of Greshamites, Juniors and Seniors, and some boys from Hill-Top. The ice was perfect, and while the air was cold, it was not cutting but dry and invigorating. We put our basket in a safe place; that is, a place where everyone could see it. Mr. Tucker said the way to lose things, especially food, was to hide it. So he placed it on top of a little hillock overlooking the lake, where it looked like a great bunch of violets against the patches of snow.

Our skates did fit and our shoes were suitable, so we were on the ice in no time. One of the most irritating things under Heaven is to go skating with persons whose skates don't fit or whose heels are too high or soles too thin. I had learned to skate on the duck pond at home; and while on the duck pond my stroke had been necessarily limited, I found when I got on the broad lake I could hold my own very well.

Annie Pore was timid and faltering if she tried to skate alone but did very well if she had a partner. Mary Flannigan, singularly ungraceful but a real racer, with flapping arms and bowed legs, could get over the ice faster than the fleetest boy from Hill-Top. The twins skated well, as they did everything in the way of athletics, and wonderfully handsome they looked skimming over the lake arm in arm.

Miss Cox was a revelation to us all. She had not skated for years but her stroke was as sure as it had ever been and in five minutes she and Mr. Tucker were doing the double Dutch roll together, now frontward, now backward, with all kinds of intricate strokes. I suddenly realized that with all of her crooked homeliness, Miss Cox was far from plain. Her figure was singularly graceful and her head very well set.

The boys cheered as they approached the far bank, where the ice was a little better.

I was supporting Annie Pore, so was necessarily going slowly, and I heard one of the Juniors say to Mabel Binks, who was looking very handsome in a red silk sweater and cap to match: "Who's the man with Miss Cox? They are some skaters, for sure."

"Oh, hello!" exclaimed Mabel. "If that ain't my beau from Richmond!"

I did not hear any more, but I felt amused a little and indignant a good deal. Harvie Price was among the boys and he immediately skated up and got in between Annie and me. He was a strong skater and soon we found ourselves doing stunts with him that we had not dreamed possible.

"That Dutch roll is not so hard when you get the hang of it. See, like this—raise your right foot, not too high—strike out with your left, a good long stroke, and then down with your right, crossing the left. Just look at us! We are not quite up to Mr. Tucker and Miss Cox, but we surely are good enough to have some notice taken of us." And so we were.

"Pride goeth before a fall," however, and just as we were getting the hang of the stroke, we ran plump into Mary Flannigan and Shorty, who were having a race backward, and the five of us fell into an ignominious heap. Nobody was hurt, not even feelings! Mr. Tucker picked me up and skated off with me.

"Who was that good-looking young fellow you were skating with?"

"Oh, that was Harvie Price. He's a mighty nice boy, and an old friend of Annie Pore's."

"And that little runty boy with the bright face, the cause of your recent disaster, who was he?"

"Tommy Hawkins,—Shorty! Isn't he nice-looking?"

"Yes, very! I'm going to ask these boys to stay and have supper with us. You introduce me, and then I'll make myself known to the teacher I see over there; and if I include him in the invitation, maybe I can get permission for the boys to stay."

Of course the boys were delighted and with a great deal of finesse, Mr. Tucker ingratiated himself into the affections of the teacher who had them in charge, a Mr. Anderson, and he accepted for himself with alacrity and gave the boys permission.

"I wish I had grub enough for the whole ship's crew of them," sighed Mr. Tucker. "If there is anything in the world I like, it is to give a boy a treat. But seven of us and Mr. Anderson and the two boys will just about clean up my basket. I wanted to ask four boys so we could 'balance all,' but I was so afraid of running short."

Mabel Binks had been circling around us, determined to attract Mr. Tucker's attention. He had given her a polite bow but held tightly to my hands and skated on by her. She was a good skater and her red sweater showed off her figure to great advantage. Dum and Dee came racing up to us and we all caught hold of hands and went the length of the lake together.

"Don't we four get on well together, Zebedee?" exclaimed Dee.

"We certainly do," he answered heartily. "Miss Page seems to be just the oil needed to make us, salt, pepper, vinegar, hot Tuckers into a palatable dressing."

"Look here, Zebedee, it is up to you to skate with that despicable thing, Mabel Binks," and Dum looked sternly at her parent.

"I don't see it that way," he answered coolly.

"Well, you see she has gone around claiming you as her Richmond beau who came up to Gresham to see her, and now she says that I won't let you skate with her."

"Too bad, that," he laughed. "Well, honey, you can tell her that you have no influence over me at all. You could not keep me from skating with her nor can you make me do it."

The machinations of Mabel, however, were beyond our ken. She came bearing down on us, all sails spread as it were. We tacked as best we could, but the determined girl turned at that moment and skated backward right into our line. Dee, who was next to me, broke and avoided her, but I got the collision full force and went down with an awful whack, with Mabel's hundred and fifty pounds right on top of me.

Mabel had meant to occupy the center of the stage herself, and here was I, Page Allison, knocked senseless for a moment by the fall, while Mabel was simply pulled off me by the infuriated Zebedee and left to shift for herself. Dum said she looked awfully silly as she got unaided to her feet. Of course I could see nothing, as I was so dazed by the fall that at first I lay with my eyes closed. In a moment the crowd of skaters had gathered, and Dee told me it was like a dog fight, everybody trying to see at once.

"Page, little Page, are you dead?" were the first words that I heard, and Mr. Tucker's face the first one I saw.

"Dead? I should say not! I'm not even hurt. Let me get up," and I caught hold of his ready hand and struggled to my feet.

"She's not hurt! She's all right!" he called to the anxious Tweedles who had been pushed back by the curious crowd, and he wiped the ever-ready tears from his eyes. Then the boys from Hill-Top gave me a yell, our especial yell that we sophomores used at moments of supreme victory:

"I wish I had been," I said ruefully; and there was a general laugh.

A whistle from Gresham warned the girls that it was time to go back to the school, and in a short time the Hill-Top boys had to leave, all but Harvie and Shorty and the tutor, Mr. Anderson.

We piled more brush on the fire that had been started to warm toes by, and in a little while we had a blaze that, as dusk came on, lighted up the whole lake and made up for the lack of a moon.

I never saw such a wonderful lunch as Mr. Tucker had brought. There were sandwiches of all kinds; cream cheese and pimento, chicken, ham, tongue and lettuce. There was a great jar of chicken salad, beaten biscuit, cheese straws, olives, pickles and salted almonds, and a chocolate cake even larger than Dum's so-called best hat that Mr. Tucker had sent for the Thanksgiving spread.

"If yours had been the task to 'tote' it this far, you would have thought there was more than that in it," he answered.

"Well, ours will be the task to help 'tote' it back," said Dee in tones muffled by cream cheese.

The crowning wonder of the repast was some great thermos bottles that finally emerged from the bottom of the capacious basket. One was filled with hot coffee and the other with hot chocolate, and lying snugly by them was a jar of whipped cream.

"Well, by the great jumping jingo, what next?" said Shorty. And then funny Mary Flannigan used her ventriloquist's powers and made a noise exactly like a puppy trying to get out of something, and Shorty bit. He dived into the basket to the assistance of the imaginary canine!

The coffee and chocolate were smoking hot, in spite of the long journey they had taken. Mr. Tucker had made a clever calculation, also, as to the number of guests, so the drinkables just did go around.

"I thought I heard Miss Binks say she was going to have supper with you," said Harvie Price to Dum.

"Ah, indeed! I fancy she did intend to, but after she made a hole in the ice with poor little Page, I reckon she forgot to wait for her invitation."

We ate up every crumb of that supper and the little birds who hoped to feast on what we left must have had but poor pickings.

We had had enough, and much gayety and good-humored repartee had made it a very delightful party. Mr. Anderson proved very agreeable and made himself pleasant to everybody. Miss Cox was happy and full of fun, and even Annie Pore forgot to be shy and actually rolled Shorty in a patch of snow because he stole a piece of chocolate cake, all icing, that she was saving for the last mouthful.

Everything must have an end, even skating parties and books—but there will be more skating parties and more books, too.

On the way back to Gresham, Mr. Tucker divulged to us that he had a scheme for pleasure, and if we girls, one and all, studied hard, and if Miss Cox would promise to be as blind to our faults as she honorably could, we were all of us included in the scheme! He had engaged a cottage at Willoughby Beach for the month of July and there we were to camp out and live the simple life.

"Oh, how grand!" we gasped together.

We had something to look forward to now and knew that the last half of the year would fly by. We could hardly wait for the camping time to come,—and I just hope my readers are as anxious to hear about my "Vacation with the Tucker Twins" as I am anxious to tell them about it!