Part 1 — THE FRIDAY PICNIC.

BY MATTHEW WHITE, JUN.

"But you can't expect Hatty to put off her birthday, can you?" and Ralph Wicksley shied a small pebble against the hand of his friend by way of emphasizing the absurdity of the idea.

"Oh, pshaw! of course not," replied the other boy, with a half-smile; "but ten chances to one it rains at a picnic anyway, and on a Friday, and the 13th of the month, there's no knowing what may not happen."

"Why, George Hendon, how long since you've turned a superstitious pagan?" exclaimed a voice behind the two, who were taking a "sun bath" on the beach at Seamere.

"Hello, Graham!" cried Ralph, springing to his feet. "We'll leave the matter to you. You know about the picnic we're to give your sister on her thirteenth birthday? Well, we've just discovered that it occurs not only on the 13th of the month, but on a Friday besides, and George here thinks we ought to postpone it on that account. It's all nonsense, isn't it?"

"I don't believe any of the girls will go on that day," put in George, by way of influencing Graham Burd's answer.

"And I don't believe one of them has thought of the coincidence," returned the latter; "and probably never will, unless you put it into their heads. You're not afraid to go yourself, are you?"

"Well, no, I'm not exactly afraid, but I think we'd feel more comfortable all around if we should choose some other day. You know sailors are terribly superstitious, and if, while we are in the boat, some one should mention the three queer facts (although I give you my word it won't be me), all the pleasure for some of the girls would be spoiled."

"Oh, don't you believe it!" cried Graham. "I'm sure Hatty, for one, has too much sense to make herself miserable because of a mere silly old wives' tale, so don't put it off on her account. Besides, there'll be more than thirteen in the party, which fact of itself ought to calm the fears of the most timid."

George said no more on the subject; everybody went on making preparations for the long-anticipated expedition to Forest Island; and when the day arrived, no more beautiful one could have dawned. By ten o'clock the Burds' tiny wharf was crowded with the young summer residents of Seamere, who were transferred, amid much laughter, chatter, and playful shrieks, to Ralph Wicksley's handsome Whitehall row-boat.

"It's too bad the Maxtons can't go, isn't it?" remarked Hatty, as the boys pushed off, and good-byes were waved to fathers and mothers on the lawn. "Their cousin Jack arrived from South America last night, and as he can only stay with them one day, of course they didn't like to leave him."

"Yes, I had the other boat all ready to bring along," added Ralph; "but as the party was thus reduced by four, I thought it would be pleasanter for us all to keep together."

"Why, I do declare," exclaimed Albertina Brown, a few moments later, "there are just thirteen of us! It's lucky we're to eat on the grass and not at a table."

"And to-day's Friday!" cried Fanny Ray.

"And the 13th of the month!" added her sister Helen.

"And my thirteenth birthday!" finished Hatty, whereupon a chorus of dismal "Oh! oh! ohs!" arose from all the girls, while Ralph cast a despairing glance toward Graham, and George Hendon smiled the least bit triumphantly at them both.

"Let's go back," proposed a faint girlish voice, after the first excitement had subsided; but such a "cowardly course" was at once vetoed by a deep-toned "Forward!" from the boys, who bent to their oars with curved backs in their determination to prove how splendidly everything could be made to go off in spite of the series of ill omens.

The girls, however, could think of nothing else but the wonderful inauspicious coincidences, and although not one of them, when questioned individually, would acknowledge to being really superstitious, still the numberless stories told in which unlucky days and figures were shown at their worst were almost sufficient, one would think, to sink the boat of themselves.

Among others was the tale of the matter-of-fact ship-owner, who put no faith in any of the sailors' silly beliefs, and who, to prove their absurdity, laid the keel of a vessel on Friday, named it Friday, launched it on a Friday, at length succeeded in finding a crew for it commanded by a Captain Friday, set sail on that day, and—was never heard of afterward.

To offset the depressing effects of this tragic albeit somewhat doubtful narrative, Ralph told about the Thirteen Club which had been recently organized in the city, the membership of which was restricted to thirteen, and which met for dinner on the 13th of each month at a hotel the name of which was spelled with thirteen letters. "And nothing 'perfectly awful' has befallen any one of the members so far as heard from," concluded Ralph, exultingly.

There were certainly several grains of comfort to be extracted from this fact, and cheerfulness began to diffuse itself once more over the party, when Fanny Ray, who was steering, suddenly declared that the sight of salt-water on every side of her always made her thirsty for a drink of fresh, and a search was at once instituted for the water jug.

"I saw Graham put it somewhere in the stern here," continued Fanny; "but don't any of you boys try to get at it, for you'll be sure to put your foot into the basket of cake or the jar of jelly. Here, Hatty, I think I feel it right down here; but Ralph says I mustn't let go of the ropes; so will you please stoop down and lift it out for me?"

Now, as may be imagined, with a party of thirteen aboard, there was not much spare room in the boat, so when anything was wanted from the bottom of it, it had to be felt, not looked for.

"I've got hold of the cork, at any rate," she presently announced, "but the jug seems to be wedged in some way. There, now! I've pulled the cork out. Oh dear! why didn't I find the handle?"

"Let me try," proposed George, giving his oar to Phil Hallibey, and making his way aft.

"Here's the glass!" exclaimed Albertina; "and I'm thirsty too."

"Oh, George Hendon, right on my foot!" cried Helen.

"Careful now," commanded Fanny. "I'm awfully sorry to make all this trouble, and—"

"O—h—h! we're sinking! we're sinking! Help! help!"

And the next moment it became known to them all that Hatty had mistaken the boat plug for the cork of the water bottle, had pulled it out, and that now the river was pouring in with appalling swiftness.

"Pull for the flats, fellows!" shouted Ralph, tearing off his jacket as he spoke. "Here, George, see if you can stuff this coat into the hole; and, girls, keep perfectly quiet, or you'll overturn the boat. Don't mind if you do get wet, but sit still."

Ralph spoke in loud, commanding tones that were at once obeyed; but the danger was by no means over. The boat was settling rapidly, the water being already half-way up to the thwarts, but ruined skirts and soaked shoes were never thought of as all sat watching breathlessly, now George's efforts to stop the leak, now the light streak on the river that marked the edge of the flats, and which was still several yards distant.

"Pull! pull!" cried Ralph, working himself with all his strength. "Can't you stop it, George? We're nearly there, girls."

Higher and higher rose the water in the boat; again and again was George baffled in his attempts to stem the incoming floods, as in the crowded condition of the stern he could not see what he was doing, and to ask any one to move would be to endanger capsizing the whole party. And all the while the sun shone brightly down on the sparkling river; the village, too, was still in sight, and not far off was the shady island where the picnic was to be held. It seemed terrible to think of going down, down amid such—

"Saved!" suddenly shouted Ralph, as the boat shot out from the channel and in among the eel-grass. "Somebody's sure to see and take us off very soon, and meanwhile you needn't mind sitting in the water, as long as it isn't up to your eyes. It's salt, so you won't catch cold."

Nevertheless the situation of the party was anything but a pleasant one, for the boat settled until it touched bottom, and then careened over, throwing both Graham Burd and Phil Hallibey into the river.

"Here comes a boat!" suddenly exclaimed Albertina.

"And it's the Maxtons out rowing with their cousin Jack," added Hatty.

The young cousin from South America proved to be an old sailor, and under his superintendence the girls were soon carried ashore in detachments to the nearest point, after which he returned to help "raise the wreck."

The thirteen having been dried and lunched at their several homes, they all met to spend the afternoon at the Maxtons', where the same useful cousin proved himself likewise a master-hand at entertaining, so what with games, stories, music, and ice-cream, the lost excursion was lavishly atoned for; and when a terrible thunder-storm about three o'clock caused them all to feel glad that they were not on Forest Island, even George Hendon acknowledged that in spite of coincidences and the boat plug, their Friday picnic was a lucky one after all.