You must bring your own sheets and pillowcases, and stay here until we see you on Monday morning." Old John and his wife agreed to this plan with the greatest alacrity, apparently well pleased to get off so easily; and, having locked up the smaller articles of camp-furniture, we filled a valise with our personal baggage and started off home.
Our house and grounds never looked prettier than they did that morning, as we stood at the gate.

Lord Edward barked a welcome from his shed, and before we reached the door, Pomona came running out, her face radiant.
"I'm awful glad to see you back," she said; "though I'd never have said so while you was in camp." I patted the dog and looked into the garden.

Everything was growing splendidly.

Euphemia rushed to the chicken-yard.

It was in first-rate order, and there were two broods of little yellow puffy chicks.
Down on her knees went my wife, to pick up the little creatures, one by one, press their downy bodies to her cheek, and call them tootsy-wootsies, and away went I to the barn, followed by Pomona, and soon afterward by Euphemia.
The cow was all right.
"I've been making butter," said Pomona, "though it don't look exactly like it ought to, yet, and the skim-milk I didn't know what to do with, so I gave it to old John.