Chapter 18 OUR TAVERN.

The next day was clear again, and we rambled in the woods until the sun was nearly down, and so were late about supper. We were just taking our seats at the table when we heard a footstep on the front porch. Instantly the same thought came into each of our minds.

"I do believe," said Euphemia, "that's somebody who has mistaken this for a tavern.