the other girls, and the rest of the Scouts had to do the same thing. By the time it was done, Mr. Green was fast asleep, Mrs. Green was nodding, and Mr. Rogers was looking at his watch.
"I'm afraid it's time this little midsummer day's dream was ended," he smiled. "We've got some way to go yet."
"Wake up Papa, then," said Alice. "Here are your old socks. Oh, dear, there's no hole in 'em, either. I tried, though."
She pulled off the socks, tossed them to Peanut, and went gingerly on her bare feet to the fire, where her own shoes and stockings had quite dried. In a moment, they were on. She did everything quickly. She grabbed a blade of grass, then, and tickled her father's nose. He put up his hand and brushed his face, still sleeping. It was the laughter and his wife's voice crying, "Alice! Behave yourself!" which really woke him up.
The five miles to North Woodstock were quickly made—rather too quickly, perhaps, to please the Scouts. They were having a good time. They stopped for a few minutes only to look at Agassiz Basin, where Lost River makes some lovely bathing pools on the rocky ledges. The Greens, of course, invited them into their hotel for supper, but Mr. Rogers shook his head.
"No," said he, "we've got to get along up the
