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“No, sir,” answered Ned, more than a trace of surprise in his voice. “I mean, we are twins, sir.” “Why, now that 's interesting! Looking closer—” the doctor leaned forward and craned his head—“I believe I detect a certain slight similarity myself!” There was a perceptible twinkle behind the glasses and Laurie dared a laugh, in which the doctor and Ned joined, while Miss Tabitha murmured: “Well! I should think you might!” “I hope you are both going to like the school,” continued the doctor. “Of course, you 'll find our ways a little different, but we 'll try to make you feel at home. You are the first representatives of your State who have attended our school, and I trust that both in conduct and industry you will bring honor to it. Mr. Cornish, your hall master, will advise you in all matters pertaining to your studies. Other questions may be taken to Mr. Cummins, the school secretary, whom you have doubtless already met. But I want you always to feel at perfect liberty to come to me at any time on any matter at all. And,” added the doctor, with a twinkle, “if we fail you, there is still my sister, who, I assure you, possesses more wisdom than all of us.” Miss Tabitha acknowledged the compliment with a little wry smile, and Ned and Laurie arose. “Yes, sir,” said the former. “Thank you, sir,” said Laurie. “Luncheon is served at one in West Hall,” continued the doctor. “That 's the dormitory behind you there. Beginning with supper to-night, you will take your meals in your own hall, but only a few of the students have arrived as yet, and so only one dining-room is open. I 'm very glad to have met you, young gentlemen. Mr. Cummins will direct you to your room. Good morning.” Five minutes later, the Turner twins set their suitcases down on the floor of Number 16 East Hall and looked about them. Number 16 was not palatial as to size, but it was big enough to hold comfortably the two single beds, the study-table, the two narrow chiffoniers, and the four chairs that made up its furnishing. There was a generous-sized closet at each side of the door, and two windows set close together between the beds. Under the windows was a wide seat, lacking only pillows to make it inviting. From the casements the boys looked over or through the topmost branches of the maples that

lined Washington Street and followed Summit Street as it continued its ascent of the hill and presently leveled out between a thick wood on one side and an open field on the other. “That must be the athletic field,” said

Laurie. “See the stand there? And the goal-posts? How do you like it?” “The field? Looks all right from here.”

“I mean the whole outfit, you simp; the school and Doctor Hillman and Miss FrostyFace and everything.” “Cut out calling names, Laurie. Miss Hillman's all right. So 's the doctor. So 's the school. I like it. Wonder when our trunks will get here.” “Half an hour ago you had a hunch you were n't going to like it,” jeered Laurie. “Changed your mind, have n’t you?” “Yes, and I'm going to change more than

my mind.” Whereupon Ned opened his bag and selected a clean shirt. “What time is it?”

“What do you wear a watch for if you never look at it?” grumbled his brother. “It's ten to one, Lazy. I’m going to find a place to wash up. I choose this side of the room, Ned.” Ned studied a moment. “No, you don't.” he challenged. “I 'll take this side. I 'm the oldest.” “There is n’t any difference, you chump. One side 's as good as the other.” “Then you won't mind taking the other,” answered Ned, sweetly. “Run along and find the lavatory. I think it's at the head of the stairs. Wonder why they put us up two flights.” “Guess they knew you were naturally lazy and needed the exercise.” Laurie dodged a pair of traveling slippers in a red leather case and disappeared into the corridor. Some ten minutes later they descended the stairways together and set out for West Hall. Laurie drew attention to the gymnasium building, but Ned, who had recovered his appetite, only deigned it a glance. Two boys, luggage laden, evidently just arrived, came down the steps of School Hall as the twins passed, and stared curiously. “Guess they 've never seen twins before in this part of the world,” grumbled Laurie. “Those chaps nearly popped their eyes out!” West Hall proved an exact duplicate of their own dormitory, and the dining-room occupied all the right end of it. There were about fifteen boys there, in age varying from fourteen to eighteen, and there was a per

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Laurie abstractedly added a fourth teaspoon of sugar to his iced tea. “Like Turk or Kurd or even Bulgar,” he murmured. Crow stared, grunted, and pushed his chair back. “You fellows think you 're smart, don't you?” he sputtered. “Bet you you are twins—both of you!” Ned and Laurie looked after him in mild and patient surprise until his broad back had disappeared from view. Then a choking sound came from one of the younger lads, and Ned asked gently, “Now what 's your trouble, son?” The boy grew very red of face and gave way to giggles. “I knew all the time you were twins,” he gasped. “Did you really?” exclaimed Laurie. “Well, listen. Just as a favor to us, don’t say anything about it, eh? You see, we're sort of sort of ’’ “Sort of sensitive,” aided Ned. “We 'd rather it was n’t generally known. You understand, don’t you?” The boy looked as if he was very far indeed from understanding, but he nodded, choked again, and muttered something that seemed to indicate that the secret was safe with him. Laurie thanked him gratefully. After luncheon they went sight-seeing about the school, snooped through the dim corridors and empty class-rooms of School Hall, viewed the gymnasium and experimented with numerous apparatus, and finally, after browsing through a flower and vegetable garden behind the recitation building and watching two boys make a pretense of playing tennis, returned to Number 16 in the hope of finding their trunks. But the baggage had not arrived, and presently, since the room was none too cool, they descended again and followed the curving drive to the right and past a sign that said “Exit Only” and wandered west on Summit Street. For the middle of September in the latitude of southern New York the weather was decidedly warm, and neither grass nor trees hinted that autumn had arrived. In the well-kept gardens across the way, scarlet sage and cosmos, asters and dahlias made riots of color. “Hot!” grunted Ned, running a finger around the inside of his collar. “Beastly,” agreed Laurie, removing his cap and fanning his heated face. “Wonder where the river is. If we had our bathingsuits, maybe we could go for a swim.” “Yes, and if we had a cake of ice we could sit on it!” responded Ned, sarcastically.

“This place is hotter than Santa Lucia.” At the next corner they turned again to the right. Morton Street, like so many of the streets in Orstead, refused to go straight, and after a few minutes, to their mild bewilderment, they found themselves on Walnut Street once more, a block below the school. “I 'm not going back yet,” said Laurie, firmly. “Let 's find a place where we can get something cool to drink.” As Walnut Street was unpromising, they crossed it and meandered along Garden Street. The houses here appear to be less prosperous, and the front yards were less likely to hold lawn and flowers than dilapidated baby-carriages. At the first crossing they peered right and left, and were rewarded with the sight of a swinging sign at a little distance. What the sign said was as yet a mystery, for the trees intervened, but Laurie declared that he believed in signs and they made their way toward it. It finally proved to be a very cheerful little sign hung above a little white door in a little pale-blue twostory house, the lower floor of which was plainly devoted to commercial purposes.




That is what the sign said in red letters on a white background. The windows, many paned, allowed uncertain glimpses of various articles: tops of red and blue and green, boxes of pencils, pads of paper, jars of candy, many bottles of ink, a catcher's glove, a dozen tennis-balls, some paper kites— Laurie dragged Ned inside, through a screen door that, on opening, caused a bell to tinkle somewhere in the further recesses of the little building. It was dark inside, after the glare of the street, and refreshingly cool. Laurie, leading the way, collided with a bench, carromed off the end of a counter, and became aware of a figure, dimly seen, beyond the width of a show-case. “Have you anything cold to drink?” asked Ned, leaning across his shoulder. “Ginger-ale or tonic or something?” Laurie elaborated. “Yes, indeed,” replied the apparition, in a strangely familiar voice. “If you will step over to the other side, please—” Ned and Laurie leaned further across the show-case. It was the girl in the white middy dress.

(To be continued)

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Here rides Bayard, battle clad, the knight without a stain,
And there strides Hereward, called the Wake, with fierce-
eyed Tamerlane;
Robin Hood in Lincoln green, and Robert Bruce the Scot:
With Arthur, king in Camelot, and strong-limbed Launcelot.

Across the gulf of centuries their blended war-notes pour,

As page by page, the rich old tales yield up their golden store;
Once more their spear-heads glint with light, once more their chargers prance,
Once more our hearts are kindled by the glow of old romance.


- so S. EY tell us of the hard times our good forefathers had, Co

j And picture them in high hats, with faces stern and sad;

But I myself am quite inclined to think they had some fun.
Come on with me, we'll travel back to 1621,

And when we have convinced ourselves, we'll let the neighbors know so

How the Pilgrims kept Thanksgiving three hundred years ago.

Now when we came to Leiden Street upon that autumn day
Not even a reckless boy or girl was wasting time at play,
There was work enough for all to do, you’ll readily understand,
With nuts to crack and fruits to chop and clams to dig from the sand,

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And marchpanes and manchets and possets and pies to make,
The great brick ovens to heat red-hot, the Thanksgiving feast to bake.
Mistress Winslow stood in her door with the baby, Peregrine White,
Setting tasks for the boys and girls, and seeing they did them right.
Some were gathering purple grapes to make in jellies and jams;
Some we noticed down on the beach busily digging clams—
We recognized Love Brewster and Francis Billington,
And Bartholomew, and Mary, and Remember Allerton.
We saw Dame Hopkins shelling beans with the gentle elder's wife,
And Constance mincing venison under her chopping-knife.
A white-capped maid with wooden spoon, ready to beat and stir,
Priscilla looked to her mixing-bowl, and John Alden looked at her.
The echoing thwacks of the Pilgrims' ax came to us on the breeze
From where pine tables were being built under the red-leaved trees,

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