grove. One of the boys, Harry White, looked very pale, and not at all well.
"What is the matter?" asked Mr. Tetlow, and he looked curiously at Danny and the others, and sniffed the air as though he smelled something.
"I—I guess I ate too many—apples," said Harry, in a faint voice. "We found an orchard, and"
"I told you not to go into orchards, and take fruit," said Mr. Tetlow, severely.
"The man said we could," remarked Danny, "We asked him."
"Then you should not have eaten so many," said Mr. Tetlow. "I can't see how ripe apples, which are the only kind there are this time of year—could make you ill unless you ate too many," and he looked at Danny and Harry sharply. But they did not answer.
The march home was not as joyful as the one to the grove had been, for most of the children were tired. But they all had had a fine time, and there were many requests of the teachers to have another picnic the next week.
