ANNE OF GREEN GABLES COUNTRY 189

length. Some one had told her that some church was putting on some sort of picnic somewhere in the vicinity. So we cycled in the general direction of it. It was easy to find. Every one was bound in that direction, and the entrance was patriotically decorated with flags.

There was everything, everything that one’s heart could imagine. There was a merry-go-round, bingo, booths for ice—cream, bananas, chocolate bars, supper. We took everything in, for, as Jean reasoned, we didn’t run into a picnic every day. We started with the merry—go-round, and inveigled a wistful-looking little girl into sitting between us for two drives. We left the merry-go-round finally, and when the world had stopped going around, we located the bingo booth. I am still sorry that we went to that booth, for Jean won. That was quite all right in itself, but . . .

“Will you take the dish pan or the kettle?”

“Neither, ” said Jean decisively. “What else have you?"

”Kewpies, pots and pans, small clocks

” We could do with another sauce pan, ” I whispered.

“ I’ll take a dish pan,” said Jean.

“You won it! You’ll have to carry it!”

“I intend to,” Jean replied haughtily, and she packed her rucksack supplies into it and tied it securely to the carrier of her wheel. That evening she used it as a first-class seat around our evening fire. It had its uses, undoubtedly, but still, the look of it .

Then, there was supper. If you have never visited a church picnic on Prince Edward Island you will be quite unable to comprehend the magnitude of the

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