Then all hands sat down with their feet curled under them and held out their tin cups for a drink of hot tea.
Emma Dean poised her cup in the air, and, with a far-away look in her eyes, listened intently to the solemn bell note of a hermit thrush.
"What _is_ on your mind to-day, Emma Dean ?" laughed Anne Nesbit.

"Is it possible that you are in love or something ?" "I am listening to the voices of nature," replied Emma solemnly, shaking her head slowly and taking a sip of tea.
"This is something new, isn't it ?" twinkled Grace Harlowe.
"Yes," agreed Elfreda.

"Only a few hours ago you were listening to a 'message' from the throat of the bull pup, and now I suppose you are turning your attention to that hermit thrush for the same reason." "I am listening to the voices of nature," returned Emma.

"Listening for the messages that, when once rightly interpreted, will open up the vast realm of the unknown to us mortals.

If we would but listen we should hear many mysteries explained and--" "Speak, Hindenburg!" interjected Hippy, giving the bull pup a push with the toe of his boot and bringing a growl from the animal.