the table—just a yard-square piece of white oil-cloth spread over the grass between the river bank and the tent. It wasn’t the most even table in the world, and Dick unfortunately set the coffee-pot down on a place where it managed to topple over when no one was watching it. That necessitated a new brew. But they were all hungry and happy, as one generally is out of doors under the trees and the sky, and the fiasco was only a matter for laughter.
“See that hump, Dick?” asked Chub, gravely.
There was much to talk about. Dr. Emery and Roy and Dick had their fishing adventures to narrate, and Harry and Chub must tell about Mrs. Peel and the store, and Bennie, and Mrs. Benson and her awe-inspiring husband. Dick was especially eloquent on the subject of the Gypsies whose camp they had passed in returning from the fishing-site.
“There were dozens of them, Chub, and they had the dandiest wagons you ever saw. Painted up like circus wagons, they were. And there were about ten horses there. We saw the queen, too, Harry. She was sitting in the door of her tent, the biggest one of all, it was, and braiding
