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boys kept on their way. As they reached the farm where Dick lived, he took them all into the dairy. His mother came out and welcomed the crowd. She brought half a dozen tin cups.

"Now then, boys," she said, passing these around, "Dick will show you where the buttermilk is."

"Say," spoke Tom, as he helped himself to the second cup of the cool, refreshing buttermilk, "I'd like to live here."

"Jed's crowd are missing it, I tell you," said Sammy, smacking his lips.

"Dick, this is just fine," spoke Bob.

Mrs. Hazelton came out with a package of home-made cheese to add to the lunch, and the boys greeted her with a cheer and started briskly on their way.

Their guide led them to a fence, over it, and through a dry watercourse.

"Here we are, fellows," he announced, pointing to a scattered grove of trees on the rise opposite.

"Hurrah!" shouted Sammy. "I feel like a squirrel."

The crowd placed their lunches under a shady tree and started over for the hickory grove. Soon each one, except Tom, was scrambling up a tree.

"There's a rather low one over yonder," said Tom to Bob. "I guess I'll tackle it."

"What with?" asked Bob.