"I dare say they are 'Biters,' and maybe, sometime if I go near them, they'll pounce out and grab me!" the little boy said to himself, and not a day passed that he didn't cast scared glances toward the tattered cover of the wagon. Of course there were times when he felt quite brave and actually wanted to peep into the wagon; more than once he had visions of what a delightful time he might have with it, making believe it was a street car, or playing with it as an omnibus--but he never mustered up enough courage to do this. One day as he came home from school he happened to glance at the wagon and his heart seemed to jump up into his throat. Surely there was something stirring inside that wagon; he saw the canvas cover bulge out--no, it wasn't the wind fluttering it! Besides he was positive that he heard queer noises inside. "It's the 'Biters'--I know it is;" he gasped. At first he was tempted to run right into the house, then something inside of him seemed to say, "Don't be such a coward, Chalmers! Don't you remember what the teacher told you today about General Washington and other brave men?" So Chalmers stood still a minute. "I'll not be a coward! Besides, there's mother sitting and sewing on the side porch." So Chalmers climbed over into the meadow and went toward the wagon. When he got to the rear of it and peeped in, what do you think he heard and saw? Oh, such a lot of chuckles and giggles, and there, seated in a row were his cousins--plump little Marjory, laughing Sharley and cute little Jim! [Illustration: There seated in a row were his cousins!] "We've come to spend the day with you and we thought we'd hide and surprise you!" cried Sharley, while Marjory added. "Oh, isn't this wagon the jolliest old place to play in! You must have lots of fun with it." "Well, I'm going to have some fun with it now," Chalmers replied as he climbed up to take a seat beside her. +---------------+ | | | Knowledge Box | | | +---------------+ Ruth's Pretty Dress. "My dress _is so pretty_," said Ruth, smoothing its soft fold and patting her own curls as she looked at her pretty reflection in the big mirror. "Yes," said the mother, "your dress _is_ pretty, dear, and let mother tell you something about how many helped to make your dress.