It was Marjorie's turn to choose the sport, for, as she had been away at Grandma Sherwood's all summer, she had missed three Ourdays.
So one morning, early in the week, the matter was discussed at the breakfast table.
"What shall it be, Midget?" asked her father. "A balloon trip, or an Arctic expedition?"
Marjorie considered.
"I want something outdoorsy," she said, at last, "and I think I'd like a picnic best. A real picnic in the woods, with lunch-baskets, and a fire, and roasted potatoes."
"That sounds all right to me," said Mr. Maynard; "do you want a lot of people, or just ourselves?"
It was at the children's pleasure on Ourdays to invite their young friends or to have only the family, as they chose. Sometimes, even, Mrs. Maynard did not go with them, and Mr. Maynard took his young brood off for a ramble in the woods, or a day at the seashore or in the city. He often declared that but for this plan he would never feel really acquainted with his own children.
"I don't want a lot of people," said Marjorie, decidedly; "but suppose we each invite one. That makes a good-sized picnic."
As it was Marjorie's Ourday, her word was law, and the others gladly agreed.
"I'll ask Dick Fulton," said Kingdon. "I haven't seen much of him since I came home."