ous subjects this lovely day! let us rather talk sentiment!" and he gave a prodigious wink in Jo's direction.
"I fear we are not a very sentimental party!" laughed Cyn; adding mischievously, "except, of course, Quimby and Celeste!"
"Oh! I—I am not, I assure you! I am not in the least, you know!" protested Quimby, taking a roll on the log; "never felt less so in my life."
"Why, Ralfy!" exclaimed Celeste, reproachfully, and to his distress went up close to him, and would have sat down by his side, but for the uncontrollable rolling propensity of that log, which made it impossible.
"How is it with you, Jo?" queried Cyn; "can you not for once, forget your horrible hobby, and be a little sentimental, in honor of the day?"
Jo, who was throwing sticks into the water, to the great disturbance of the bugs, and plainly-shown annoyance of a big frog, made a somewhat surprising reply. Decidedly seriously, he said,
"I fear if I should attempt it, I might get too much in earnest!"
"Oh! we will risk that, so please begin!" said Cyn, but staring at him a little as she spoke. "Jo, sentimental! Just imagine it!"
"Will you risk it?" he asked, still seriously, and
