"Oh, dear!" said Rob, looking up at the sun, "look at that old sun: he's just galloped all this morning. I think his horses are running away. Did papa show you that picture of him in the 'Mythology'? It was a splendid man, in a chariot, standing up, and driving four horses. They thought the sun was really a man. Say, Nell, let's don't go home yet." "I'm so hungry!" said Nelly, whose share of the amusement was not so exciting as Rob's. "Pshaw!" said Rob: "I wonder what's the reason girls get hungry so much sooner than boys." "They don't," said Nelly, doggedly: "they've got stomachs just alike. You're as hungry as you can be; only you won't say so. I know you are." Rob did not deny it; in fact, as soon as Nelly had said the word "hungry," he had begun to feel a dreadful gnawing in the region of his stomach. "I'll tell you, Nell," he exclaimed: "we'll cook a trout on a hot stone. I know how. Billy did it one day last summer. You just get a lot of dried sticks and things, and pile them up; and I'll find a flat stone." In a few minutes, they had a big fire, and a large flat stone standing up in the hottest part of the blaze. "There!" said Rob, rubbing his hands: "now you'll see a dinner fit for a king. We'll have a trout apiece." "Good big ones!" said Nelly. "How do you tell when the stone is hot enough?" "Oh! if it burns a stick to hold it on it, it's too hot, and you let it cool a while," replied Rob, with a patronizing tone; as much as to say, "Girls did not know much about cooking on hot stones." Girls knew more about getting hot stones out of fires, however, than boys did, in this instance. Poor Rob burnt his fingers badly, trying to pull the stone out by taking hold of it with a handful of thick green leaves. "Oh, Rob! Rob!" screamed Nelly: "you'll burn you!" But it was too late. Rob had grasped the stone with all his usual impetuosity, and the leaves had shrivelled up instantly, like cobwebs, the stone was so hot. He let it fall back into the fire, and danced about, shaking his burnt fingers, and screwing up his face very hard, to keep from crying. "Oh, that was too bad, Rob!" cried Nelly. "Why didn't you let me get it out?" "You get it out!" cried Rob, quite angry; "you get it out! I'd like to see you! That's the way Billy took his out. There isn't any other way." Nelly had run off a few steps for a big stick. Presently she came back; and, without saying a word to Rob, put the end of the stick under the stone, and lifted it up and rolled it over and over, till she had it entirely out of the ashes and hot brands, and on a smooth, clean place in the grass. Then she took a little twig, and held it close to the stone, to see if it were still hot. The twig smoked. "Oh! it's lots too hot," said Rob, meekly. "What made you think of that way of getting it out, Nell?" "I don't know," said Nelly: "your burning your fingers, I guess."