The last of the journey was taken after they had had a picnic supper, and under the brilliant light of the September moon. The boys and girls sang and told stories, and otherwise enjoyed themselves. But as they drew near home they quieted down. The summer was behind them. For more than two months they had skylarked, and enjoyed themselves to the full on the lake and in the woods. They "were going back to civilization," as Frankie said, and it made them a bit thoughtful. "I expect," said Mina Everett, "that we have had just the best time that we will ever have in all our lives." "Why so?" demanded Bess. "Can't we go camping again?" "Sure we will!" declared Dave Shepard. "I see what Mina means--and I guess she is right," Wyn remarked, earnestly. "We may go camping again; but it will never be just like this first time. For the girls, I mean. We had never done such a thing before. And then--if we go next summer--we'll be a whole year older. And a year is a long, long time." "Long enough to spoil some of you girls, I expect," grumbled Ferdinand. "Spoil us, Mister? How's that?" snapped Bess, at once taking up the gauntlet. "You'll be wanting to put up your hair and let down your skirts, and will be wearing all the new-style folderols by next summer," retorted Ferd. "Oh, won't they, just!" groaned Tubby, in agreement. "You wait and see, Smartie!" cried Frank Cameron. "We are not like the girls you are thinking of," declared Grace, with some warmth. "No, indeed," agreed Percy. "The Go-Aheads are going to fool you, Ferdie," said Wyn, laughing. "Just you watch us. _All_ girls aren't in a hurry to grow up and ape their mothers and older sisters. We're going in for athletics and the 'simple life' strongly; aren't we, girls?" Her fellow club members agreed in a hearty chorus. "Besides," added Bess, "we can have all the fun the other kind of girls have as well as our own kind. We can dance, and go to parties, and wear pretty frocks for _part_ of the time." "What did I tell you?" demanded Ferd, grinning. "Never mind, Ferd, never mind," said Dave, softly. "We'll be a bit that way ourselves before the winter's over. You know, Ferd, that your folks will insist on your keeping your hair cut and your finger-nails manicured." "And of course I'll have a blister on my heel from wearing dancing pumps before the season is over," groaned Tubby. "Oh, well! it's not altogether our fault that we grow up so fast. Our folks make us," and he groaned again, for dancing school was one of the fat youth's pet aversions. "That is what youth is for," advised Mrs. Havel, who overheard all this. "It is a preparation for manhood and womanhood." "Dear me! Dear me! let's forget it," cried Dave. "This is no time for feeling solemn. Thank goodness, for two solid months we have forgotten all about the 'duty we owe to posterity,' as the professor expresses it. Maybe next year we can forget it again in our camps upon the shores of Lake Honotonka."