"In the woods? Oh, we always have tea in the woods, and sometimes coffee." "Make a fire to boil the kettle?" "Why, _of course_!" "How should I know it was of course? Well, tea is very good in the woods, I have no doubt. Don't forget the tea." "But I should have forgotten the sugar, if you hadn't spoken." "And the salt! don't forget the salt; we always do." "We don't want salt to-day; we have nothing to eat it with." "Yes, we have." "No, we haven't; there is cold ham, and bread, and butter, and apple-sauce." "Take the salt," said Meredith, "and give me a few eggs, and I'll make you a friar's omelet." "A friar's omelet! What is that?" "You'll see. Only I shall want a dish to mix it in, you know." Delightful! The dish was fetched from the kitchen, and the omelet pan. Ham and apple-sauce Betty had packed for the party already; rolls and butter, spoons and knives and forks, a pitcher of cream, napkins--I do not know what all--went into the other baskets, and were finally stowed in the cart. A light porter's cart, it was; roomy enough; and yet it grew pretty full. The tea-kettle must find a place; then books and knitting and paper. Then thick shawls to spread upon the rocks, to make softer seats for the more ease-loving. Fairbairn carried a tin pail with water. All these arrangements took up time; so the morning was well on its way and the dew long off the grass, when at last the procession set forth. Meredith drew the cart, which he was informed he must do carefully, or the cream would slop over, and, possibly, other damage be done. It was not a long way they had to go this morning. Bordering upon the lawn and shrubbery, to the east, rose a little rocky height, which, in fact, prevented the dwellers at Mosswood from ever seeing the sun rise. But the hill was so pretty, they forgave it. Towards the house it presented a smooth wall of grey granite; on the top it also showed granite in quantity, there, however, alternating with moss and thin grass, and overshadowed by cedars, oaks, and pines, with now and then a young hemlock. The soil was thin; the growth of trees in consequence not lofty; nevertheless, very graceful. No cultivation, hardly any dressing, had been attempted; the purple asters sprung up at the edge of the rocks, and huckleberry bushes stood where they found footing; here and there a bramble, here and there a bunch of ferns. Now the oak leaves were turned yellow and brown; the huckleberry bushes in duller hues of the same; moss was dry and crisp, and ferns odorous in the warm air.