I'm not going to tell you much about the picnic, though it was a real nice one, and in such a beautiful place. Every one says there's one of the handsomest views in the world from Spring Mountain; you can see five villages, and the river winds so pretty among the hills; then you can count a great many church steeples, and there are such noble trees up there, and nice, shady places, and rocks to sit on, that it's the very spot for a picnic. We played plays, and told stories, and sang considerable; our Biel is a funny little fellow, and can imitate almost any animal: he kept us all laughing, till even Abby Matilda forgot her airs, and was quite pleasant. Then we had a right good dinner--cold chicken, and ham, and tongue, and lots of nice pies and cakes, and plenty of currant wine and milk punch, and the clear, good water from the spring. Calanthy's biscuits were so good everybody wanted them, and my Washington cake was praised to the skies, and I was as happy as I could be.
In the midst of the dinner our Joe spoke out--Joe _is_ good, but he don't always know when to speak.
'Where is Race Miller, boys? I thought he was coming with us? He didn't say nothing to the contrary, the other day.'
Ned Hassel was sitting next to me on the grass; he gave me a nudge, and answered, 'I shouldn't wonder if Race has got the mitten from one of the girls; I met him early this morning, and he looked as black as thunder.'
'Well,' said Abby Matilda--she _must_ have her say--'if I was a man, and anyone gave me the mitten, I'd have too much spirit to show it by keeping away from a picnic!'
'Pooh!' said Rhody Mills, 'what nonsense! like enough Race is hard at work for his mother or somebody else. He's always ready to help anyone that asks him.'
Well, the afternoon passed away, and when the sun began to get low, the boys said it was time to be going home. While Ned was harnessing his horses, something got tangled in the harness, and it took him a little while to fix it, so that the others that were riding started first. I saw Joe look back to see if we were coming, and that made me think of father again; I had never deceived him in my life, and I couldn't bear to think of it then; I wondered how Ned would manage, and whether our boys would tell father about the horses, and I was glad we were behind the rest, so that Ned would have to drive slowly, for the road was not wide enough for teams to pass each other. Now the picnic was over I felt very uncomfortable, and blamed myself more and more. However, we started directly, and soon overtook the rest. As we drew up behind the wagon that Abby Matilda was in, Ned said, 'What makes you so still, Dimpey; haven't we had a real good time?'