CHAPTER XVII 



A MIDSUMMER EXCLRSTOX 



It was that wonderful week after tlie middle of 

 June. The week that holds the best of everything ; 

 the longest days of the whole fly-away year ; the big- 

 gest strawberries and the sweetest roses. Everything 

 at its height ; birds in full song ; bees in the flowers ; 

 children in liamniocks under the trees, and a Wise ]\Ian 

 humming happily to himself as he breathed it all in. 



" I don't think that anything nicer than this can 

 happen," said Nat, swinging so hard in his hammock 

 that he rolled out into the long grass. 



" It doesn't seem as if it coulcl^'^ answered Dodo ; 

 " only here at Orchard Farm there is so much niceness 

 you never can tell what is the very nicest." 



The Wise Man laughed to himself, and tlien whistled 

 an imitation of the White-throated Sparrow's call — 

 at which sound Dodo promptly rolled out of her ham- 

 mock and bumped into Xat, who was still lying in the 

 grass ; then Ijoth the children sat up and listened. 



" All day — whittling — whittling — whittling," whis- 

 tled the notes. 



" You ought to be further north building 3'our nest," 

 said Xat. "Don't you know tliat, Mr. Peabody ? " 



" It's Uncle Roy ! " cried Dodo, spying him back of 

 the apple-tree perch. 



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