188 OVER ON THE ISLAND

started, and we’d have to jump it. But she didn’t, she didn’t! Her stone fell on the line, and she was out!

”Out!”

“Ya, ya!” jeered her brother, but he, too, met his Waterloo at the sixth block.

I was next and my reputation was at stake—especi- ally with Jean.

The stone I had selected was really good. The spindle-legged girl used a piece of glass. I didn’t think that was fair, but her brother upheld her. Some neighbour children, who had collected, affirmed that that was right, too, so I let it go. Well. I must admit, the stone threw well, though once it nearly went on the line. Up . . . and up . . . and up. Now, for the last block! The kids began to 100k serious. Goodness knows which one I should pick! But I knew! The second was the cream of blocks, and I would gradually acquire the first and third, and the kids would have to jump to the doubles. They couldn’t make it, and then I should be game. I threw carefully and correctly.

“Out!”

The kids hopped around gleefully and the girl took her turn. But need I go on? She got the second block and the third, too. The boy got the first one. And I had to jump to the fifth part of the double, as my stone was now in the fourth part. Could I do it? I threw the stone in, and backed away for a run, and jump.

“Supp-errrl” called a voice from the house. The kids were off on a run without so much as a backward glance at me standing uncertainly with a stone in my hand.

“We’ll be late for the picnic,” Jean suggested at