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“I see!” murmured Maggie, slowly comprehending.

Then passing the next Nest, she continued explaining:

“Them’s where the boys are campin’ just now. All the Nests fer the boys ain’t done yet, and most of dem have to live up in de row where all dat noise is comin’ from.”

“How old are the boys already here?” asked Miss Martin.

“Half of ’em are cripples er sickly lookin’ kids what was in a asylum er hospital, so dat’s why dey ain’t runnin’ aroun’ playin’ ball er diggin’ farms.”

“After the drill I’d like you to show us the farms,” suggested the lady.

“All right—I’ll show you anyt’ing you likes to see,” replied Maggie, graciously, but eyeing the six little strangers to see how they took her importance.

They now reached a rustic bridge spanning the shallow creek, and Nelly stopped to watch the fascinating ripples flow past under her feet.

“Oh looka! Looka—Miss Martin! Dere’s a fish!” screeched Nelly, excitedly pointing at some tiny minnows darting about.

The others crowded close to the railing to follow the direction of Nelly’s pointing finger, and great interest was manifested in the unusual sight.