a long stretch, and then take 'em over the hill. The one that's over the hill first, wins."
We found four more; but Twinny wouldn't take but one. They said they wouldn't race against each other, but would both have a hand in starting their one. I thought it was rather a nice idea. We had fun naming them. I called mine "Hoosier Boy," and Twinny's was "Skedaddle," and Bess called hers "Get There."
We all stood in a row and held the bushes high above our heads. Bess's had a piece of the stem, about four inches long, still on it, and I offered to cut it off; but she said to leave it, because it was so easy to hold it by while we waited for the right sort of a breeze. Pretty soon the breeze came, and I counted three, and Twinny screamed "They're off!" and away they went, high in the air, and then spinning along over the sand before the wind.
But no sooner had Get There struck the ground, than I let out a yell. "Oh, look at him—look at old Hop-and-go-fetch-it!" I shouted, "Look at him, look at him!" for the stem had proved his downfall, and instead of spinning along like the others, the sharp end of it would strike the ground
