So there a rock under a tree, here a bit of mossy bank, was taken possession of; places were carpeted with shawls, and luxurious loungers were at rest upon them. Fairbairn set down the pail of water and departed; Flora got her worsted embroidery out of the cart, and Esther a strip of afghan which she was ambitiously making. Maggie nestled up to Meredith's side on the moss and laid her little hand in his, and for a little while they were all quiet; these last two enjoying October. But Meredith did not long sit still; he must go exploring, up and down and all round the South Pitch. Maggie followed him, as ready to go as he, and talking all the while. It was nothing but rocks and moss and trees and brambles and ferns; with the delicious river glittering below the rocks, and the glow of the hills coming to them through the trees, and golden hickory leaves falling at their feet, and now and then a chestnut burr or a hickory schale to be hammered open. Warm and tired at last they came back to their place. And then the girls declared it was time for dinner. CHAPTER II. A fire was the first thing. Meredith and Maggie gathered dry pine branches and dead leaves, and Meredith built a nice place for the kettle with some stones. Then they found they had no matches. "We _always_ forget something," cried Maggie. "Now, I'll run home and fetch a box." Meredith went too. It was only a little more walk. Then the fire was set agoing, and the kettle filled and put over. Maggie sat by to keep up the flame, which being fed with light material needed constant supply. Meredith threw himself down on the mossy bank and opened his book. For a little while there was silence. "What are you reading, Ditto?" Maggie asked at length. She kept as good watch of Meredith as of the fire. "You would not understand if I told you. It is a German book." "Is it very interesting?" "Yes." "I knew it was. I could see by your face; when you pull your brows together in that way, I always know you are ever so much interested." "Well, I am," said Meredith smiling. "Would it interest me?" "I think, perhaps, it would." "Ah, Ditto, don't you want to try? Read us some of it. What is it about?" "It is a Mission Magazine." "Missionary! Oh, then, we _shouldn't_ like it," said Esther. "I don't believe we should." "And in it are stories," Meredith continued. "What sort of stories? about heathen?" "I like stories about heathen," said Maggie. "Stories about heathen and Christian, which a certain Pastor Harms used to tell to his people, and which he put in the magazine." "Did he write the magazine?" "Yes." "Who was Pastor Harms?" "A wonderful, beautiful man, who loved God with all his heart, and served Him with all his strength." "Why, there are a great many people, Ditto, who do that," said his sister. "Most people that I have seen keep a little of their strength for something else," remarked Meredith dryly. "Was he a German?" Maggie asked.