“Isn’t this more fun than the jolliest picnic you ever went to?” exulted Sally, as she and Josephine spread sheets and blankets upon the beds.

“It’s great!  I’m so glad it happened to-night, when we were here.  Sally, do you suppose they can dry the tent and get it up again by to-morrow night?”

“I hope not!  If it would only rain again to-morrow!  I’d give worlds to be forced to stay here in the house, much as I’ve enjoyed sleeping in the tent.  If I could only make Max take a little liking to the house—­and I could if I just had our things out here from town.  But of course he’ll never let me.  Hasn’t he been funny to-night, with his solemn ‘hoping we’re satisfied’?  Oh, if the poor dear only had just a tiny sense of humour!”

“I’m sure he has, if we could wake it up.  This scene ought to do it, if anything would,” agreed Josephine.  “Look at Mr. Rudd, with his hair all rumpled and his sleeping-cap still on.  See Mary Ann out there; doesn’t she look dazed and serious?  Here I am, with my hair in two tails down my back—­and it’s the first time I’ve thought of it.  As for you, in that red sweater jacket, with your curly mop of hair, you look more like a lively small boy than ever before.”

“I’d like to be one.  Do you suppose we can ever settle down to slumber again to-night?  I’d like to have larks the rest of the time, till morning.  We will have them to-morrow night, Joey Burnside, if we can manage to stay in this house.”

It certainly was hard to get to sleep under these new conditions.  Even after everybody was quiet, there were still sources of amusement for Sally.  The sound of a low growl in the hall was enough to set her off, and she leaned over to Josephine’s cot to whisper:  “That’s Max, muttering, ‘I hope you’re satisfied!’”—­at which Josephine began to laugh, and the two shook together for some time thereafter.

The first thing in the morning of which Josephine was conscious was Sally again, breathing joyously in her ear, “Jo, Jo—­it’s raining!”

So it was.  The long dry spell had been broken by the severe storm of the night, and a heavy rain was now falling.  As she dressed, Sally gazed out upon it with satisfaction.

“How on earth are we to have any breakfast?” came booming from the hall, as Max, reluctantly getting to his feet, took in the situation.

“Mr. Ferry and I brought all the kitchen tent stuff into the back of this house,” said Bob.  “He said it was best in time of peace to prepare for war, and we might get another storm before morning.  So we’re all fixed.”

“Very nice for those who can stay here, but not so fine for the ones who have to catch the trolley.”  Max applied himself discontentedly to the business of dressing.

“Oh, what’s that!  Who minds a little walk in the rain?  I wouldn’t be such a granny.  You’ve done nothing but fuss ever since the tent came down.  Nobody else has howled a minute.  You must enjoy being everlastingly in a grouch.”