SERIAL STORY.

Oxford Observer, Volume 1, Issue XXX, 8 February 1890, Page 4

SERIAL STORY.

Specially written for the ' The Observer.' OUR PICNIC. (Continued.) About eight o'clock we all got started. Esther had come over the day before, so as to be ready m the morning, and she said that a lot of people from the township were going to the picnic. " Anyone you know ? " I asked. "Oh yes," she said, "The Cary's and Morrison's, Harry and Jack White, Fred Maynard, and a good many others." I mind well how pretty Esther looked that morning; her green and white checked gingham dress, and hat trimmed with a wreath of leaves, looked just the thing for a day m the bush. HoWj.merry she was too, chatting and laughing with everyone. Oh, poor girl, it was many along day before she was as meiry again. " What's the matter with you, Mary Jane," she said to me, "(Surely you haven't left the tea behind, that you look so grumpy." She was always teasing me about being so fond of a cup of tea, and declared I should turn into a teapot some day. . I was feeling anxious about Gipsy ; it was burning hot m the sun, and we found our umbrellas, and then the fun began. Gipsy gave a big jump, which nearly sent us all out of the dray, and then she tore away — bump, bump, jolt jolt, and the girls screamed — oh, oh. ' " Shut them things up," roared John. " She won't stand them." So we closed our umbrellas, and jolted along m the burning sun until we came to the rive.x. John whistled Esther and Sophie Wood sang, songs'. The boys m the other dray were playing concertinas and tin whistles, we could hear them now and again m the dis^ tance, and it really seemed very plea-

sant. I began to think I should enjoy it after all, and Mrs Wood said it was jolly. We found there was not much water m the river, indeed we went nearly across the river bed before we saw, and then we came to a shallow stream about twelve feet wide, with a bank of shingle three or four feet high on the other side. Gipsy went bravely through the stream, and John jumped out to lead her up the other side, the dray wheels were just on the top of the bank, when up went the dray, ami we were all thrown out. I told you it was a tip dray ; I suppose the peg had slipped out with jolting over the stones m the river-bed. Oh, what a state we were m ; Mrs Wood had a small box m the dray, a bottle of cream, another bottle of sauce for the salad, and a jar of pickled cabbage. When I scrambled up out of the water the first thing I noticed was Mr Wood lying on his back on the shingle, and that box with the lid open covering his face and head. Soon he got vp — what a sight he was to be sure ; the bottles had broken m the crash, and a mixture of sauce, cream, red cabbage, and fragments of broken glass, was streaming down his face and clothes. I couldn't help laughing, although he looked so savage. " Oh David, are you hurt ? " cried his wife. He glared at her, and then kicked the box till it was all m splinters. Mrs Wood ran after him, exclaiming " David, David, don't do that, Oh my nice pickled cabbage." Mr Wood only muttered to himself, and kicked the box. The little girls were wet and bruised, and Esther was vexed with her nice dress being all wet and draggledlooking. John shouted to us to hurry up, he couldn't leave the horse ; but Mr Wood said to us, " I say, let's go back home. I've had enough of this blessed picnicing, and won't go any further." " Nonsense man/ said John, "Come jump up, you'll soon get over this little spill." "Don't I look a guy?" said Mr Wood to me. I wished to say "itfo," but I really couldn't, he did look so funny. However we persuaded him to let us brush him up a little, and then we all jogged along, but not so merry as we had been before, our mishap. The girls hung their skirts over the end of the dray, and we were all glad when we reached the bush. (To be continued.)