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270 At last Mrs. Comstock finished the greens. "You are three miles from the city and less than a mile from where we live," she said. "If you will tell me what you dare eat, I suspect you had best go home with us and rest until the cool of the day before you start back. Probably some one that you can ride in with will be passing before evening." "That is mighty kind of you," said Philip. "I think I will. It don't matter so much what I eat, the point is that I must be moderate. I am hungry all the time." "Then we will go," said Mrs. Comstock, "and we will not allow you to make yourself sick with us." Philip Ammon was on his feet. Picking up the pail of greens and his fishing rod he stood waiting. Elnora led the way. Mrs. Comstock motioned Philip to follow and she walked in the rear. The girl carried the cocoon and the box of moths she had taken, searching every step for more. The young man frequently set down his load to join in the pursuit of a dragon-fly or moth, while Mrs. Comstock watched the proceedings with sharp eyes. Every time Philip picked up the pail of greens she struggled to suppress a smile. Elnora proceeded slowly, chattering about everything along the trail. Philip was interested in all the objects she pointed out, noticing several things which escaped her. He carried the greens just as casually when they took a short cut down the roadway as along the trail. When Elnora turned toward the gate of her home Philip Ammon stopped, took a long look at the big hewed log cabin,