Towards the middle of July the girls at The Priory began to look forward with eager anticipation to the annual picnic.  In the minds of most it was the great event of the summer term, and eclipsed even Speech Day.  Patty, who had not yet experienced the joys of such an excursion, was anxious to learn something about it, and made many enquiries of her friends.

“It’s the loveliest fun,” said Avis.  “We have special saloon carriages engaged on the train, and lovely baskets of lunch, and Miss Lincoln lets us buy toffee and chocolates if there are any shops.  I wonder where we shall go this year, and if it will be to the country or the seaside.  Has anyone heard?”

“Phyllis Chambers said she believed it was to be Moorcliffe,” said Winnie.

“Where’s that?”

“It’s a dear little seaside place near Chelstone.  There’s a nice sandy shore, and Phyllis says she shouldn’t be surprised if we were allowed to take our costumes with us and bathe.”

“Oh, how glorious!  I do hope we shall.”

“I believe it depends on the tide,” said Winnie.

“Why on the tide?  How absurd!”

“No, it’s not absurd.  The sea goes out very far at Moorcliffe, and leaves a large sandy bay.  You don’t want to walk half a mile to the water.  If the tide’s up in the morning, and we can get our dip then, it will be quite right, because there will be time for our costumes to dry afterwards in the sun; but if it’s not high water till afternoon, we shall have to do without our swim.  It would be impossible to carry back more than seventy dripping bathing-dresses.”

“Unless we chartered a tank for them and put them in the luggage van,” laughed Enid.  “I hope the tide will be nice and accommodating.  Hasn’t anybody got an almanac?”

“Miss Lincoln is planning it all out, and is to tell us on Saturday.”

“I don’t think it depends entirely on the tide,” said Beatrice Wynne.  “I was talking to Miss Latimer, and she says she knows of a splendid pool under the cliff, which is always quite deep enough to swim in at low water.  She’s going to tell Miss Lincoln about it.”

“If we don’t arrange for Moorcliffe, we shall probably go to Bradley, and look over the Castle,” said Maggie Woodhall.

“I hope not,” said Cissie Gardiner.  “I’ve seen several castles, and they’re all alike.  You walk on the battlements, and peep down the well, which is half filled with rubbish and ferns, and an old woman unlocks the dungeon, and shows you a rusty chain, and then you eat sandwiches in the courtyard.  I’d far rather go to the sea.”

Cissie’s wish was gratified, for on Saturday morning Miss Lincoln gave the welcome announcement that she had decided the picnic should be at Moorcliffe on the following Thursday, provided that the weather was favourable, and that no unforeseen event occurred in the meantime.

“Miss Lincoln always puts in a warning note of that kind,” said Enid.  “I wonder what she expects to happen.  Does she imagine we shall all catch scarlet fever, or break our legs, before Thursday?”

“I should hope not, but of course it might be wet.  If it’s a pouring day, we’re to go on Friday instead,” said Avis.

“To-day, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday to get through,” said Jean.  “It’s a frightfully long time.  I feel as if Thursday would never come.”

“So do I. I should like to go to bed, and sleep straight through till Thursday.”

“You lazy girl!  Suppose you didn’t wake, and we left you behind?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” declared Avis.  “I shall be up first of all, you’ll see.”

In spite of the girls’ impatience, the longed-for Thursday came at last, and proved such a fine, clear, beautiful day, that there was not the slightest hesitation as to whether they should start or not.  Avis fulfilled her promise of early rising by getting up to watch the dawn, and tried to make her sleepy room mates share her enthusiasm, an attention which they scarcely appreciated when they discovered that she had roused them three hours too soon.  Long before the usual bell rang everybody was up and dressed, which did not bring breakfast any the quicker, though it allowed the girls time to work off some of their spirits by a run round the garden.  Punctually at a quarter to nine o’clock a row of omnibuses arrived to convey the seventy-three pupils and their ten teachers to the station.  Each girl carried her bathing costume and towel in a neat parcel, and large hampers of lunch were in readiness.

“Miss Lincoln’s taking the cricket tent,” announced Cissie Gardiner.  “There it is, all wrapped up with its poles and pegs.  Miss Latimer and Miss Rowe are going to put it up on the beach, and then we can undress and dress there again when we bathe.  It’s not very big.  I’m sure it can’t possibly hold more than six of us at a time, so we shall have to go in relays, and be very quick.”

Patty felt at the high-water mark of bliss when she found herself seated on the top of an omnibus between Enid and Jean, with Avis and Winnie close by.  She could have wished the drive longer, but when they reached the station, and found the saloon carriages ready for them, labelled “Special Excursion Reserved”, she was as anxious to get into the train as she had been to remain on the omnibus.  There were, of course, many little excitements.  Winnie nearly left the parcel containing her bathing-dress on the seat near the booking office, only remembering it just in time; Maggie Woodhall’s hat blew away over the line, and had to be recovered by the guard; and one of the luncheon baskets fell off the truck as the porter was wheeling it along the platform, much to Miss Lincoln’s dismay, till she discovered it was luckily not the one which held the breakables.  Each mistress was to be personally responsible for her own class, and for the day the six prefects were given as full powers of authority as the teachers; so Miss Lincoln hoped that with so many people to look after them, her lively pupils might find no opportunity of getting into mischief, or running into danger.  All were able to take their places at once in the carriages which had been waiting for them in a siding at the station, and were shunted on to the Chelstone train when it arrived.  The porters banged the doors with their usual vigour, the guard waved his green flag, and at last they were off for their delightful excursion.  It was less than an hour’s journey to Moorcliffe, so by half-past ten the entire school was walking in a procession through the small village, across the cliff, and down on to the beach.  The tide unfortunately was low, so Miss Lincoln was glad to avail herself of Miss Latimer’s knowledge of the place to find the cove where there was a convenient bathing pool.  It was some little distance along the shore, and the girls were much tempted to linger to pick up shells or sea urchins; but the prefects urged them sternly on, assuring them that they would find plenty more of such treasures, and that time was passing quickly by.

“When you consider how small the tent is, and how many of us have to take it in turns to use it, you’ll understand we need the whole morning for our bathe,” said Phyllis Chambers.

They at last reached the sheltered nook among the rocks which Miss Latimer had chosen.  The sea, retreating far into the distance, had here left a wide and fairly deep pool, through which flowed one of the many channels that intersected the bay.  It was a pleasant spot, far enough from the village to promise retirement, and the sparkling water lapping gently in the sunshine looked inviting.  Aided by a band of willing workers, Miss Latimer and Miss Rowe soon erected the tent; the girls effected their changes of costume with lightning speed, and in half an hour a passing stranger might have imagined the coast to be invaded by an army of mermaids.  Jean, who had brought her camera, took several snapshots of the lively scene.

“It reminds me of pictures I’ve seen of colonies of seals basking about on the rocks,” she declared.  “Now, Patty, put yourself in a picturesque attitude.  I wish I dare ask Miss Rowe to let down her lovely hair, I’m sure it would look so nice.”

“Violet Chambers is swimming on her back,” said Enid.  “I’m so glad to have the opportunity of watching her.  I heard she could do it, but we never get a chance to see the Second Class girls in the bath.”

“And Mabel Morgan is trying to make a wheel,” said Winnie.  “Oh, look at her!  Isn’t she clever?  There!  She’s come to grief over it.  I expected she would.”

“I haven’t any accomplishments,” said Avis.  “I can only paddle round and round the pool and float.  I wish I were in the channel over there, and could swim for a couple of miles.”

“I heard Miss Lincoln tell Miss Latimer she was very glad the tide was low, because it was absolutely safe here, and if we were in the real sea, she should not know a moment’s freedom from anxiety until she saw us all out again.”

“Miss Lincoln is quite ridiculous!  What harm could happen to us?  Of course the pool is better fun than the swimming bath at The Priory, but it’s nothing to feeling yourself on big waves.”

“We’re going to Devonshire for our summer holiday, and I shall be able to have some glorious swimming there, I expect,” said May Firth.

“You’ll have to mind not to get into a current,” said Ella Johnson.  “We were staying in Cornwall last year, and my brother was nearly carried out to sea by one.  He declared it must have been the Gulf Stream; it was so tremendously strong, it whirled him along, and he felt quite helpless.  All he could do was to float and to call, hoping somebody might hear him.  No one did for a long time, and he had drifted ever so far from land, when at last a boat was passing, and some fishermen picked him up.  They told him it was very dangerous to swim there, when he didn’t know the coast.”

“It’s all right if you don’t get cramp,” said Avis.  “That must be dreadful.  Once when we spent our holidays at Whitby we had such an adventure.  We were walking along the shore, and we saw a young lady swimming a little distance out.  Suddenly she flung up her arms and shrieked, and went down into the water.  My father threw off his coat and his boots, and swam to the spot where she came up.  He managed to catch hold of her by her hair, and get her back to land.  She was quite insensible, and I thought she must be dead; but my uncle, who’s a doctor, was with us, and he immediately began the treatment for the drowned, just like Miss Latimer teaches us in the swimming lessons.  I helped to work her arms up and down and to rub her, and at last she opened her eyes.  We were so relieved.  She called at our lodgings afterwards to thank us, and said she had gone for a little afternoon dip alone; and she supposed the water must have been colder than usual, because all at once she felt a terrible pain in her leg, and could not move.  She said it was the most awful sensation to feel she was sinking, and not to be able to save herself.”

“It was lucky for her that your father was close by to rescue her!”

“Yes, and Uncle Arthur too, to bring her round afterwards.  I don’t think it’s very safe for girls to go swimming alone.”

No mermaids could have had a pleasanter time idling about in the pool than Patty and her friends.  They tried various performances in fancy swimming, which, however, were quite unsuccessful, though they all assisted to hold each other up during the experiments.  They were in the midst of a frantic effort to dance the Lancers in two feet of water, when Miss Latimer called to them to come at once; and as the limited accommodation of the bathing tent necessitated that the girls must make their toilets in relays, they were obliged reluctantly to tear themselves away, and in due course join the others, who were sitting on the sand letting their loose hair dry in the sun and wind.  Everybody was very ready to open the luncheon baskets at half-past twelve.  The sea air had given fine appetites, and the provisions vanished steadily.  Each class had brought its own special hamper, and there was a great deal of laughter when those of the Third and Fifth Classes got changed by mistake, the thirteen indignant members of the former only receiving the amount which had been intended for ten.  The upper and lower divisions of the Fourth feasted separately, the one under the auspices of Miss Harper, and the other with Miss Rowe, as it would have been impossible to pack lunch for twenty-two girls in one hamper, unless, as Enid suggested, they had used a clothes basket for the purpose.  After lunch, Miss Lincoln insisted that everybody should take half an hour’s quiet rest lying on the beach.

“Many of you were awake at daylight,” she said, “and you have been racing about and exciting yourselves since before breakfast-time.  I am afraid you will all be thoroughly tired out by evening, so I forbid anyone to speak; and if you can go to sleep, so much the better.”

I hardly think Miss Lincoln expected her injunctions to be absolutely obeyed; at any rate, a certain amount of whispering went on among the girls, who collected in little groups to take the required repose, while a low laugh every now and then did not indicate sound slumber.  Avis piled up a pillow of sand, and closed her eyes complacently, until she found Winnie was tickling the end of her nose with a piece of seaweed; Enid lay curled up under the shadow of a rock, looking at her watch every few minutes; and Jean and Patty played a silent game of noughts and crosses on slabs of smooth stone.  The moment the half-hour was finished the girls sprang up, and commenced to chatter with renewed avidity, showing in their own lively fashion that they were not yet tired, however they might feel by the end of the day.  The classes separated during the afternoon, some going for walks on the headland, and others strolling farther along the beach, searching for cockles on the sandbank, or throwing stones at a mark.  They all met at four o’clock for tea at the small hotel on the edge of the cliff, where tables and forms had been set out in the garden, and the innkeeper and his wife and two daughters were busily bustling about, carrying plates of cakes and buns, jugs of milk, and trays full of cups and saucers, to meet the requirements of their army of young guests.  It was a merry meal, for everybody was full of jokes and fun.  Miss Harper told amusing stories, and Miss Lincoln asked riddles, and Miss Rowe forgot she was keeping order, and chatted almost like one of the girls themselves.

“I could sit here all afternoon,” said Enid, “just watching the sea and the boats and the people down on the shore below.  If I could only get up a second appetite, I should like to begin tea over again.”

“You can have some more if you like.  Miss Lincoln doesn’t limit you,” laughed Avis.

“No, thank you.  The copybooks say:  ‘Never attempt impossibilities’.  I shall go and sit on the edge of the cliff.”

“Come with me,” said Winnie, “and we’ll have a game of golf just to ourselves, with two sticks and an indiarubber ball.  You can’t think what fun it is.  I was trying on the common a little while ago.  Will you come too, Patty?”

“No, thanks,” said Patty.  “I should only spoil sport.  I mean to go down on to the sands again.  You can call to me when you’ve finished, and perhaps I’ll come up; but I won’t promise, because I like the shore the very best of all.”