That night at supper we told Mrs. Bax we wanted to go out for the day. She had hardly said anything that supper-time, and now she said-- "Where are you going? Teaching Sunday school?" As it was Monday, we felt her poor brain was wandering--most likely for want of quiet. And the room smelt of tobacco smoke, so we thought some one had been to see her and perhaps been too noisy for her. So Oswald said gently-- "No, we are not going to teach Sunday school." Mrs. Bax sighed. Then she said-- "I am going out myself to-morrow--for the day." "I hope it will not tire you too much," said Dora, with soft-voiced and cautious politeness. "If you want anything bought we could do it for you, with pleasure, and you could have a nice, quiet day at home." "Thank you," said Mrs. Bax shortly; and we saw she would do what she chose, whether it was really for her own good or not. She started before we did next morning, and we were careful to be mouse-quiet till the "Ship's" fly which contained her was out of hearing. Then we had another yelling competition, and Noel won with that new shriek of his that is like railway engines in distress; and then we went and fetched Bates' donkey and cart and packed our bales in it and started, some riding and some running behind. Any faint distant traces of respectableness that were left to our clothes were soon covered up by the dust of the road and by some of the ginger-beer bursting through the violence of the cart, which had no springs. The first farm we stopped at the woman really did want some pins, for though a very stupid person, she was making a pink blouse, and we said-- "Do have some tape! You never know when you may want it." "I believe in buttons," she said. "No strings for me, thank you." But when Oswald said, "What about pudding-strings? You can't button up puddings as if they were pillows!" she consented to listen to reason. But it was only twopence altogether. But at the next place the woman said we were "mummickers," and told us to "get along, do." And she set her dog at us; but when Pincher sprang from the inmost recesses of the cart she called her dog off. But too late, for it and Pincher were locked in the barking, scuffling, growling embrace of deadly combat. When we had separated the dogs she went into her house and banged the door, and we went on through the green flat marshes, among the buttercups and may-bushes. "I wonder what she meant by 'mummickers'?" said H.O. "She meant she saw our high-born airs through our shabby clothes," said Alice. "It's always happening, especially to princes. There's nothing so hard to conceal as a really high-bred air." "I've been thinking," said Dicky, "whether honesty wouldn't perhaps be the best policy--not always, of course; but just this once. If people knew what we were doing it for they might be glad to help on the good work---- What?"