"Did we wake you up?" Artie asked, staring round-eyed over his glass of milk.
"Yes, to both questions," said Polly. "We thought we'd go out to the farm with you. Hand me the bread knife, please."
"Where's Ward?" Margy demanded, pouring out a glass of milk for Polly and one for herself.
"Sleeping," replied Fred, grinning. "He said he wasn't going to get up early when he didn't have to."
"Well, I think myself it's kind of silly," Margy said frankly. "What made you set the alarm for five o'clock?"
"Oh, I just thought I'd feel gay this morning, and I do," declared Fred. "I think the carnival makes me a little skittish."
They all laughed, recognizing one of the pet words of Mrs. Pepper, Carrie's mother.
"Come on, or we won't get back for breakfast," Fred urged. "Mother gave me the egg money. Let's hurry."
Even Margy changed her mind about the silliness of an early rising hour when they stepped outside the cottage and saw the sunrise over the point of land that ran out beyond the fishing pier. A wonderful rosy glow was over the world, and the ocean, which had not yet begun to sparkle, lay smooth and dark.
"I can count three, four—no, seven, sails!" cried Margy.