was finished, Aunt Cornelia spread it, wrong side uppermost, on an unused table, covered it with a thick boiled paste, composed of flour and water, allowed it to dry thoroughly, then lined the rug with a heavy piece of denim. This was done to prevent the rug from curling up at edges, and caused it to lie flat on floor; but I think I should prefer just a firm lining or foundation of heavy burlap or denim." "Thank you, Aunt Sarah, for your explicit directions. I cannot fail to know just how to knit a silk rug, should I ever care to do so. I think the work would be simply fascinating." CHAPTER XIII. THE GIRLS' CAMPFIRE, ORGANIZED BY MARY. One day in early June, when all nature seemed aglow with happiness, we find Mary earnestly discussing with Elizabeth Schmidt the prosaic, humdrum life of many of the country girls, daughters of well-to-do farmers in the vicinity. "I wish," said Mary, wrinkling her forehead thoughtfully, "I could think of some new interest to introduce into their lives; some way of broadening their outlook; anything to bring more happiness into their commonplace daily toil; something good and helpful for them to think about." All at once Mary, who was not usually demonstrative, clapped her hands, laughed gleefully and said: "I have it, Elizabeth. The very thing! Suppose we start a 'girls' campfire,' right here in the country? I don't think we shall have any trouble to organize." "And you, because you understand all about it, will be the Guardian," said Elizabeth. At first Mary demurred, but, overcome by Elizabeth's pleading, finally gave a reluctant consent. They then made out a list of the girls they thought might be willing to join, Mary promising to write at once for a handbook. They separated, Elizabeth to call to see the girls, and Mary to interview their parents. Their efforts were rewarded with surprisingly gratifying results, for many of the girls had read about the "Campfire Girls" and were anxious to become members. * * * * * One afternoon, several weeks later, had you gone into the old apple orchard, at the farm, you would have seen thirteen eager young girls, ranging in age from fourteen to sixteen, listening intently to Mary, who was telling them about the "Campfire Girls." What she told them was something like this: