"It is just the jolliest picnic I ever was at," said Graham, helping to wash and clear away, and re-stow spoons and forks. "Of course it is," said Phil. "There never can be another quite so nice: it is my first one, you know." "Yes; just think of it, and it's my fiftieth, I suppose; but then you must not think all picnics like this. It is something really remarkable to have everything go off so smoothly. Why, sometimes all the crockery gets smashed, or the fire won't burn, or if it does, you get the smoke in your eyes, or your potatoes get burned, and your lemonade gets in your milk, or somebody puts your ice in the sun, and, to crown it all, down comes a shower." "Dear, dear, what a chapter of accidents, Graham!" "Are you listening, Miss Rachel?" said Graham, with a quizzical look. "I was only letting Phil know how much better you manage than most people." "Well, when you and Phil are ready, I want to tell you about something else I should like to manage. Come, put away all the books and work, and listen to my preaching." Miss Rachel sat on a fallen tree, leaning against some young birches. "Phil was asking me, yesterday," said she, "what becomes of all the poor sick children in the city, and he seemed to think he ought in some way to help them; so I promised to think about what he had been considering, and a little plan came into my head in which I thought you could help us, Graham." Graham looked up with a pleased face, and nodded. "It is just this. In the city hospitals are many sick children who have to stay in bed almost all the time. Now Phil and I want to do the little that we can for them, and it seems to me it would be nice to send fresh flowers and fruit--all that we can spare from our gardens--once or twice a week to some of these sick city children. What do you think, boys?" "It would be lovely, Miss Schuyler," said Phil, "only I do not see how _we_ could help; it would all come from you." "Not all, dear child. I mean to give you both a share of the work--you in your way, and Graham in his. Are you interested? Shall I go on and tell you?" "Yes, indeed," both exclaimed. "I propose that we set aside a certain part of our flower-garden and our fruit-trees, you and I, Graham (for I know you have a garden of your own), which we will call our 'hospital fruits and flowers,' and Phil is to assist in making up boquets, hulling berries, and packing to send away; besides that, he is to make some little pictures, just little bits of sketches of anything that he fancies--a spray of buds, a single pansy, Joe's old hat and good-natured face beneath, a fish, or a bit of vine-covered fence--and we will sell them for him, and the money shall help pay the express charges upon our gifts to the sick children, so that Phil will really be doing more than any of us. How do you like my plan?" The boys were pleased, and had begun to say so, when a shout came from the other part of the island from Joe, and Nep set up a violent barking.