As the school was growing Miss Jones decided she needed an assistant so she could separate the children into two groups. The youngsters immediately took a disliking to Mrs Carruthers. She was a large woman, always dressed in black, of an uncertain age. She had bad eyesight forcing her to wear spectacles over which she would stare crossly at her pupils. She decided to take the older ones, which included Joe and Scamp.

"I want you to sit separately from each other," she told them.

"Why?!"

"Because I do not like siblings sitting next to each other. It distracts them and leads to mischief." They stared at each other in disbelief. "You're here to work, not clown around."

"We don't clown around!" cried Joe.

"We wanna sit together!"

"Cartwright, isn't it?" Mrs Carruthers asked, looking down at her register. "Marie and Joseph."

"Little Joe and Scamp," said Joe.

"Scamp? What kind of name is that for a little girl?"

"It's my name."

"Your name is Marie. I have never met such rude children! You will address me as 'ma'am', hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," they chorused.

"But we don't wanna sit apart," Joe cried. "Ma'am."

"Joseph, go and sit at the front of the class over there," she ordered, pointing to a seat by the wall. "And you, Marie, at the front by the window."

They could not have been further away from each other. From that moment on it was undeclared war.

They loathed sitting apart. Scamp was studious while her brother was not but she enjoyed his presence. She would put up her hand so often that Miss Jones would often smile and say, "Anyone except Scamp? What about you, Little Joe?"

Joe seldom knew the answer. He was not stupid, merely lazy. Scamp would hiss the answer to him surreptitiously although Miss Jones was perfectly aware.

Now everything was different. The siblings glared at their new enemy with detestation and Scamp did not once offer an answer.

"Oh, she's horrible!" Scamp exclaimed at recess.

"Fancy separating us! We hadn't done nuthin' wrong!"

"I hate her!"

"So do I."

The two teachers sat in the ante room, sipping their coffee.

"What do you think of your new pupils?" Miss Jones smiled.

"Undisciplined. They know very little. Especially that Joseph and Marie Cartwright."

Miss Jones exploded with laughter. "Scamp?! She's the brightest student I have!"

"Not with me she isn't. She glares at me and the dumb insolence...! I've half a mind to keep her after school. And her brother's not much better."

Abigail frowned and shook her head. "No. No, that's not them. Scamp is exceptionally bright. Little Joe is not stupid although he does let his mind wander somewhat. But neither of them is insolent. They're extremely polite and well-behaved."

"Well, all I can say is we must be talking about two different children," the older woman said airily.

After recess Mrs Carruthers marched them back into the room. "Mathematics now," she said pitilessly. "Marie, I want you to come up here and cite your nine times table."

"Why me?"

"Miss Cartwright, I've had quite enough of your insolence. And you will address me as MA'AM!"

"Yes, ma'am."

The girl obviously hated her new teacher. She stomped to the front of the class, glowering.

"She's picking on her," Joe murmured to his neighbor. "She doesn't like her so she's picking on her."

"Joseph Cartwright!"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Stand up. Perhaps you'd like to share your observations with the rest of the class?"

"No, ma'am, not really."

The children tittered.

"It seems to run in the family, this...rudeness. It was a good job I did separate you!"

"No, ma'am," he answered. He suddenly felt chilled with courage. "I was just wondering, that's all."

"Wondering about what?"

"Why you became a teacher. You don't seem to like children very much."

The titters led to an explosion. Mrs Carruthers grabbed him and pulled him forward. "Hold out your hand!"

Scamp found herself giggling as he put up his left hand. The teacher picked up the switch on her desk and brought it down with a smack. "Now, write me fifty lines. 'I shall not talk in class.' "

"I can't, ma'am."

"Why not?"

Joe was hissing under his breath and wringing his hand under his right armpit. "I can't write."

"You mean you...?! Be quiet, the lot of you! Joseph, you and your sister will stay behind for an hour after school. I shall give you a note for your father."

Which is why the twins found themselves copying out a large section of a particularly boring book on English grammar as the clock clicked slowly to five p.m.

"Pa's not going to be happy," Joe remarked as they rode home. He carried the note in his pocket as he would a bomb.

"No."

"We'll just tell him the truth, shall we?"

"Yeah, for what it's worth."

They made good time but Ben was waiting for them on the stoop, his face like granite.

"Where have you been?"

"We were kept behind, Pa," said Joe.

"Why?"

"Here's the note."

"Rudeness? That's not like you!"

"We can explain, Pa."

"Yes, I think you'd better. Come inside."

"What about the horses?"

"You can do the horses in a minute. First you're going to tell me what's going on."

He listened to their complaints patiently. "It says here that Mrs Carruthers caned you, Joe. Is that true?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

"I was rude."

"What did you say?"

Joe glanced at Scamp who was staring at the floor, trying not to laugh. He felt his cheeks redden. "I...I..."

"Yes?" Ben asked slowly.

"I...ahem...I asked her why she became a teacher. Since she didn't seem to like kids very much."

"Joseph!" The sound of laughter from his older sons made him frown. "Joe, that was very naughty. No wonder you got the cane."

"But, Pa, she was - "

"I don't care what she was doing or not doing. You do not talk to your teachers like that. Now you two will keep to the house on Saturday and help Hop Sing with the household chores."

"Oh, Pa - "

"And don't let it happen again! Now put up your horses and go to your room. You'll stay there until supper and then you'll go straight back up. I want your homework done by eight o'clock and then you'll go to bed."

"But - "

"And no more notes! Now, scram!"

"It's so unlike them," he said later to Adam. "I mean, they're mischievous little critters but they're not rude."

"Well, this Mrs Carruthers sounds like a charmer, doesn't she?"

"Adam, that does not excuse it."

"I know but why did she separate them? Why did she fixate on Scamp? She's as smart as any dang teacher I know! It's almost as if she was deliberately trying to provoke them."

"Well, I don't know what her motives are, Adam. Miss Jones never has a problem with them as far as politeness is concerned. She always comments on their manners even when they're in trouble. But I didn't bring them up to be rude."

As the days went on the teacher became even more harsh, sometimes reducing a few of the girls to tears. Scamp and Joe looked on in loathing. To Ben's astonishment his daughter started not to want to go to school.

"Scamp! You love school!"

"I don't love her, though."

"Mrs Carruthers, I assume?"

"Yes, sir."

"You've got to bring this feud to an end, both of you. It's gone on long enough. You'll do as you're told and you'll stop playing her up. Or else."

Scamp begged Miss Jones to allow them to return to her class.

"What is going on between you and Mrs Carruthers, Scamp?"

"She's horrible to us."

"From what I hear, it's the other way round."

"She would say that."

"Now, listen, Mrs Carruthers had good references. She is a very respected teacher - "

"She's mean to the other kids, too, Miss. She tells them they're dumb and from bad families. She's...she's just horrible."

"I believe you've been in trouble several times."

"Yes, Miss. It's just her. She really doesn't like me. She says everyone else says I'm bright, but she's seen no evidence. She thinks I'm dumb and she's horrible to Little Joe. You know she caned him?"

"Yes," Miss Jones smiled. "I also know why. He was unforgivably rude, Scamp. Now, listen. You're a good girl and I want you to make a special effort to get on with her. Do you think you can do that? For me?"

Scamp gazed at her familiar blonde teacher with some affection. "Yes, Miss. I'll try. For you."

She kept her word until the new teacher picked on one of the slower girls, Nettie Evans, making her cry with constant references to her delinquent brothers. She decided she would get her own back on her.

"How you going to go about it?" asked Joe.

"I don't know."

"Well, it better not be anything too bad. You don't want Pa to get to hear about it."

Her chance came, not a week later, when Reno's new sheriff came to visit Sheriff Coffee. The family was in town and saw the people gathering at the stage.

"Let's go see!"

The youngsters made their way away from their father and brothers to try to get a better view. The bulky figure of Mrs Carruthers stood directly by the side of the carriage and they saw she was simpering and laughing with Roy Coffee and the young visitor. The twins stood at the back of the crowd, scowling mutinously.

"There she is," said Joe. "Pompous, in't she?"

"I'm gonna fix her." Scamp rushed to the grocery stoop and got a chair which she stood on to get a good view over the crowd before fishing out her slingshot and a pebble from her pocket.

"Scamp! Don't! Pa'll have your hide!"

"Leggo, will yer? Now, if I can just get a good shot..."

"Don't!"

But she was already taking aim. She stuck her tongue between her teeth with effort, squinted one eye and let fly.

Scamp and Joe were eminent in their circle of friends as being the best shots in the business. With unerring accuracy the pebble struck Mrs Carruthers who gave an agonized cry, arched her back and put her hand to her bottom.

The crowd erupted into laughter. Roaring with merriment various people spotted the children as they tore up the road.

"MARIE! JOSEPH!"

The terrible bellow almost stopped their hearts and their blood ran cold. They froze and saw their father and brothers striding toward them. Ben's face was like thunder, Adam's was a mask of amusement while Hoss looked worried.

Ben snapped his fingers at them. "Give it to me."

"What?" asked Scamp innocently, hiding the weapon behind her back.

"Now."

She handed it over and hung her head.

"You two are in a whole peck of trouble."

"Joe had nothing to do with it, Pa. It was me."

"Marie!"

"Well, I'm sorry, Pa, but she just looked so silly. 'Specially when it hit her right on the...butt!" She gave Little Joe a sly look and they both resumed their chortling.

"Mrs Carruthers's 'butt', as you so delicately put it, is not the only one that's going to be sore today, you know that, don't you?"

"Pa, don't - "

"You naughty girl! You could've taken her eye out!"

"Oh, Pa, don't you think I know the difference between someone's eye and their butt?"

Adam and Hoss joined in the mirth and Ben glared at them. "It is not funny!" Which made them laugh even more. "Marie, she'd have only had to sneeze or move suddenly and it could well have taken her eye out. You never throw stones at people!"

"It wasn't a stone, it was a pebble."

"It's the same thing."

"And she didn't throw it, she used a slingshot."

"Be quiet, Little Joe. What if it had hit someone else?"

"Pa, when was the last time I missed what I was aiming at?"

"I don't know but by the time you get this back you'll be out of practice. Now first you'll apologize to Mrs Carruthers and then we are going home. You and I are going to have a little chat later, young lady."

"Uh-oh," said Adam. "You're in for a talking-to, Scamp."

"Pa - "

"Now. Unless you'd like it here in the street."

She was led back through the crowd, her face burning red with embarrassment. The onlookers stared at her with a mixture of indignation and amusement.

"This is the culprit, I'm afraid, Mrs Carruthers. My daughter. And she'll be chastised for it, I can assure you."

"Oh, Marie, how could you? You really hurt me. I won't be able to sit down."

"You won't be alone in that, ma'am. What have you to say, Marie?"

"Sorry."

"Sorry, ma'am."

"Sorry, ma'am."

"It was very wrong of you, Marie. What have I ever done to you?"

"Well, you - " Scamp gave a little squeak as Ben dug her with his elbow. "I'm sorry, ma'am, it was only a joke."

"Not very funny, was it?"

"No, ma'am."

"No, it wasn't, and she won't be laughing."

Scamp rode behind the rest of the family on the journey home. Normally she and Joe would have rushed on ahead but he slowed his horse to keep her company.

"Don't worry, Scamp." She stared at the swells without answering. "Well, I did warn you, didn't I?"

"Yes," she sighed. "You did."

"Look, it won't be too bad. It'll hurt a bit but it'll soon be over."

"I know," she said and gave a sniffle. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

"You'll be OK."

"Yeah, I know." She smiled bravely and looked up.

"Wanna gallop?"

"OK."

They tore ahead and Ben bellowed at them, thinking they were going to run away. But he saw them heading in the right direction and knew they were blowing off a bit of steam. They were already in the barn when they drew up in the yard.

"When you've finished that, Marie, go up to your room and wait for me."

"Yes, sir."

Joe followed Ben outside. "Pa, please don't spank her."

"Do you think I want to, Little Joe? I have no choice. She could have injured that lady."

"But she wouldn't have. It was only a tiny pebble. And she's a very good shot."

Ben paused in unstrapping his saddlebags and placed them on the ground. He smiled and rubbed Joe's shoulder. "Do you know how many times your sister's saved your hide?"

"Several."

"And now you're trying to return the favor?"

"No, sir, it's not that exactly. It's just that...well, I know she didn't mean any harm. It was just a prank."

"A stone thrown – or shot – like that can injure and Scamp knew that perfectly well. She could have seriously hurt Mrs Carruthers. No, I'm sorry, Joe, I can't let this one go."

Joe thought about persisting but knew it was in vain. Besides, he suspected his father was right.

The five of them put up their horses and Scamp took her time. The atmosphere was akin to the sombre calm before an execution. Eventually she could stand it no longer. She sped up and finished before the others, then ran into the house. Ben watched her go and sighed. He was dreading it as much as her.

She was waiting for him when he entered her room. He saw her face was contorting and she was trying not to cry.

"Alright, Scamp, let's get this over with."

He put her over his knee and after he had soundly tanned her bottom she threw herself onto the bed and howled into her pillow. Ben cursed silently and walked downstairs, swiping at the banisters as he went. His sons watched him sympathetically.

"I hate doing that!" he exclaimed. "I hate it with any of you, but..."

"Because she's a girl," Joe said.

"Well, I guess so," Ben admitted. "It shouldn't make any difference, but I suppose it does." He saw Adam gazing at him calmly. "I really spanked her, Adam."

"I can hear," he smiled, nodding to the deafening wails coming through the ceiling.

"It makes me feel..." he trailed off, searching for the words, "...like less of a man, somehow."

Adam and Hoss understood, but Joe did not.

"Why are you less of a man, Pa?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Well, don't worry, Pa. She's always wanted to be a boy so she won't mind."

Ben laughed, tousled his hair and went to the woodpile. Joe comforted his sister as she sobbed against his shoulder. Their father was still at work some time later when he sensed the forlorn little figure behind him.

"Hello, Scamp."

"Hi, Pa." She was still crying.

"How's your behind?"

"It hurts like the devil."

"Well, I don't like hurting you."

"I know."

"What possessed you, girl?"

"She's so horrible."

"That's no excuse."

"When can I have my slingshot back, Pa?"

"Not for quite a while."

"Aw, Pa, you've already paddled me," she grizzled, rubbing her backside only to cry a bit more.

"When I feel I can trust you with it you can have it back. Not until then."

"That'll be ages, then," she grumbled.

"It'll only be ages if you make it ages."

"But how can I make you trust me?"

"By being trustworthy, silly."

"That spanking really hurt, Pa."

"It was supposed to, there'd be no point in doing it otherwise. I'm sorry I had to do it, Scamp."

"I know."

"I'm not sorry I did it, but I'm sorry I had to do it. Do you understand the difference?"

"Yes, sir."

"I don't like spanking you but it was a really dumb thing to do, Scamp - you knew better. Mrs Carruthers could have been badly hurt if you'd caught her in the head or eye. I know you don't like her but all the same. You can't go round hurling stones at people just because you don't like them, you know." She stood with lowered eyes, sniffing and trying to stop crying. He tapped her head. "Problem is, you don't think, do you?"

"No, sir."

"So I had to warm your bottom for you, you see. So you'll never do such a naughty thing again."

"I won't," she replied, her eyes fixed on the ground. "I didn't think."

"Well, you'll have to learn to. I've said that enough times to Joe. And you."

"It's just I wish you wouldn't do it so dang hard."

"You know why, daughter. I don't like doing it so I do it as hard as I can so you won't do it again and I won't have to punish you again."

"You certainly do do it as hard as you can!"

He softened as he saw her cry and gave her a cuddle. She leaned into him, her tears making the front of his shirt wet. His gentleness made her sob more. "Come on, now, Scamp, it's not that bad," he said, stroking her cheek. "Maybe one day you'll be a good girl and I won't have to spank you at all, eh?" He dried her face and winked at her. "I'll be waiting a long time, though, I expect?"

"Oh, Pa!"

"The devil got a hold of you, didn't he, Scamp?"

A tiny smile hovered over her tear-stained face. "Yes, sir."

"Get thee behind me, Satan, and you throw salt over your left shoulder."

"Aw, Pa, that's an old wives' tale."

"I'm just so relieved you didn't miss and hit her head. You could've cut her. As it is, you got her in the tail. The same place you're stinging right now."

"Yes, sir."

"So your punishment was kinda fitting, wasn't it?"

Scamp tried to laugh. "I guess so."

Her tears hurt him and her good-hearted acceptance of her correction was like a knife in his chest. He returned to the wood, savagely slashing at it a few times. His back, shoulders and arms screamed with pain as they always did when he administered this self-punishment. Eventually he stopped and sighed. "Come on." She stepped forward and he slipped his arm around her shoulders.

"OK, but I don't know if I'll be able to sit down for supper."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage. And if you can't you can always go upstairs."

"Oh, no, sir. I'm eating my meal downstairs."

She missed not having her slingshot and Joe lorded his over her mercilessly.

"I'm gonna bash you, Joe," she said a few days later when they were in the woods.

"Just because I've got mine and you haven't got yours!" he chanted infuriatingly, waving the little weapon just out of her reach.

She hit him, her fist catching him just by his mouth and his return blow grazed her cheekbone. They rolled over and over, kicking, grappling and slapping, as they had dozens of times before. On this occasion she got the better of him, sat on his back and twisted his arm behind him.

"Holler uncle!"

"No!"

"Holler uncle!"

"Doggone it, Scamp!"

"Holler uncle!"

"Alright, alright! Uncle! Uncle!"

She immediately released him and helped him up. By their code of honor the fight was over. Scamp had won and there would be no grudges.

"In a few years I'll beat you every time," he said. "Pa told me so. He said I'll be a lot bigger than you and I wouldn't be able to fight you any more."

"I'll always fight you."

"I won't be able to. Pa says men and women don't fight each other. 'Cos it's unfair."

Scamp grunted. She was perfectly aware of biological reality but did not want to be reminded of it. She reveled in the fact she was not a woman, only a girl.

It was a Saturday, a sacred day to them, far more enjoyable than the Sabbath when they had to go to church. After their morning chores they had the whole day before them. Still bearing faint bruises and scrapes from their altercation they rode from the woods, sat on a mound overlooking endless herds of cattle and ate their sandwiches.

"All that," Joe sighed. "Ours."

"Ours," she repeated. She groaned with the heat of the sun and lay back. "Ours. The Cartwrights'."

"It's a name to be reckoned with."

"Sure is. No-one messes with us."

"Well, they'd better not. Or I'll beat them up."

"Where's my currant bun?"

"In my belly."

Her voice raised to a squeak and she punched his arm with some gusto. "You!...You pinched it!"

"Here," he said, guffawing. "I'm joshing yer. I wouldn't dare pinch your bun, sister o' mine."

"Ooh, you're a rotten beast!"

It was too hot to fight and they watched the cattle, stretching out as far as the eye could see. They squinted at the horizon, brittle in the noon-day sunshine, waving slowly with the heat.

"Cuh, could it be any more hot?" Joe gasped.

"No," she replied firmly.

They took off their shirts so the sharp blades of grass stuck into their skin. Ben had told them not to, fearing sunburn and heatstroke, but he was not there.

"Like having a warm bath, in't it?" Joe stretched out, pointing his toes.

And they fell asleep.

They had planned to go on west to Washoe Lake that afternoon but all their plans were forgotten as they slumbered. When they came to, their horses had wandered off and they were weeping with pain as the upper parts of their bodies had cooked in the sun.

"Pa's gonna kill us!" Joe sniffled as they limped home. "What time is it?"

"Dunno! Oh, my shoulders!"

They could not put on their shirts as they were too sore, so they carried their clothes over their arms as they walked on. They finished their canteens and provisions as they made their way back to the woods where they had fought so blithely that very morning. When they got to a stream they carefully bathed each other, wailing with pain as the icy cold water fell on their burns.

"Oh, God!" cried Scamp. It was not yet the Sabbath so she felt free to swear. "I wish I was home!"

Joe was crying, rocking back and forth.

"Listen," she said gently. "What if we soak our shirts until they're absolutely dripping and just put them like this..." She demonstrated and groaned as the rivulets went down her front. "It'd be a bit of relief."

"Yes," he sniffled. "You're right."

He cursed himself for being such a baby while Scamp was so practical although they were both weeping. They made slow progress and they could smell the late afternoon coming on before they saw it. They estimated it had to be at least five o'clock and they were supposed to have been home an hour ago.

They passed familiar landmarks, the creek, the mounds they scrabbled down, then as the scrubland turned to the greener swathes of meadow and field, the air seemed to cool. The children could not appreciate the beauty beyond their wall of pain. It was all different now.

Hoss had seen the twins' ponies trot in earlier and had been alarmed. He had set out to find Adam and Ben where they were overseeing some of the new broncs and they had started to comb the immediate area around the ranch. They separated to cover more land and Adam was astonished to find the two burnt little urchins straggling along the track back to the Ponderosa.

"Little Joe! Scamp!"

"Adam!"

"Look at you! Shheww! You're burnt!"

"Adam!" they wept.

"Come on, sshh, sshh! Oh, you're burnt to a crisp!"

The burns had solidified into livid weals across their faces, chests and stomachs and the children were sobbing with fatigue, pain and worry. He soaked their shirts in fresh, colder water and enfolded them into the material, then gave them the rest of the liquid. He fired three shots into the air and held them gently on the saddle in front of him.

"Pa's gonna be mad, in't he?"

" 'Course he's not, Little Joe. He'll just be happy you're alright," said Adam as he pressed his mount forward. "He's worried to death about you. We all were."

"Oh, you two!" Ben cried when he saw them. "You took your shirts off in the sun, didn't you?"

"Yes, sir," said Scamp.

"How many times have I told you not to do that? This is what happens!"

"Pa, it hurts so much!" Scamp cried.

"Well, it will. Come here, girl. Little Joe. There, there, don't cry."

"Pa, it hurts!"

"I know, Little Joe. Let's get you home. We'll get you some nice cool baths and Hop Sing's got some lovely ointment to go on those burns."

"We lost our horses," said Scamp.

"They're not lost, they just came home," said Hoss. "A coupla hours ago."

"What were you two doing?"

"We weren't doin' nuthin', Pa," said Joe. "We just ate our lunch and we were looking at all the cattle."

"Then it got real hot and we got kinda sleepy and we went to sleep."

"Taking your shirts off in the process."

"Yes, sir."

"I don't think you'll be doing that again, will you?"

"Oh, no, sir!" said Joe fiercely.

"I'm glad to hear it. Because I've got two sausages for children and I don't particularly like them so overdone."

They laughed through their tears. Joe sat in front of Ben and Scamp in front of Hoss. They wanted to be cuddled but could not bear to be touched.

"Burnt to a crisp," Ben said later. The children had been bathed and soothed by salves. They had eaten a good supper and gone to bed. "What have I told them? Time after time. Don't take your shirts off in the sun. What do they do? - "

"Take their shirts off in the sun," Adam and Hoss chorused.

"You know what they say, Pa," said Adam. "Lessons are learned in pain. They've just learned to listen to their wise father and benefactor."

Ben chuckled and dug him in the arm. "Poor little things. Covered in burns. They really will suffer tomorrow."

"It's their own fault, Pa."

"I know. But that only makes it worse, doesn't it?"

"Yup."

Their only consolation was they did not have to go to church the next day. The whole family stayed home, although Ben did not like them to miss it. "I'm raising a couple of heathens."

"We don't always go, Pa," said Hoss.

"We're adults. They're kids and they should go."

"Just another childhood torture."

"Hoss!"

Within a couple of days they started to peel.

"Look at it!" Joe guffawed, picking at his shoulder.

"Will you cut that out?" Ben cried. "You'll make it sore again!"

"Can't be much sorer than it already is," said Scamp, pulling a slough off her chest.

"Well, it will be if you keep that up."

Hop Sing slapped at their hands. "Hop Sing make vinegar washes. Stick cucumber on. Then silly chillen pull it all off."

"Yeah, do give over," said Adam, who was trying to read. "It's gross watching you two pulling off all your skin."

"It doesn't hurt," said Joe.

"Yeah, but it hurts us having to watch you."

But as with all children they were fascinated by grossness and were obsessed with picking at their upper dermis. After all their pain and tears Adam made them a kite to cheer them up. Hoss helped paint the paper while Adam made the frame. The next weekend Hoss came in smiling. "Twins? We've got a surprise for you."

"A surprise!?"

"Come and look."

They hurried into the yard where Adam was holding the magnificent toy. The children gasped.

"Wow! It's a dragon!"

"Hoss painted it."

"Thanks, Hoss!"

"But Adam made it."

"Gee, thanks, Adam!"

They hugged their brothers tightly before turning back to their prize.

"Look!" cried Scamp. "It's got a tail!"

"Yeah, it'll look amazing in the sky!"

"Now don't you two be tearing it," said Adam. "I warn you, I'll hang you by the ears from the hay loft."

"Oh, we won't!"

"It's too sturdily made for that," Ben smiled. "That was a lovely thing you did, boys."

"Well, poor little mites," said Hoss. "They were crying all last weekend. This'll perk them up."

"It sure will. It was lovely of you. You sure love those rascals, don't you?"

"Eh, they're OK," said Adam.

"They'll pass."

"I wondered why you two kept disappearing. You didn't even tell me."

"We wanted it to be a surprise."

"Well, it certainly was. Look at their little faces."

"Pa?" cried Scamp, swirling the brightly colored canvas behind her. "Will you take us out so we can fly it?"

"Tomorrow, darling. We're busy today."

"Oh, OK."

"We can go after church, can't we?" said Hoss.

"Well, we'll have to come home first," said Scamp. "I am not wearing that horrible, awful, yucky dress!"

"Yes, on second thoughts she's right." Ben was trying to hide a grin. "It'd be in rags by the time she's finished and she's only got the one."

"Yeah, and that's one too many. You don't make Joe or Hoss or Adam wear one."

"Well, it wouldn't suit them, honey."

"It doesn't suit me!"

"But you're a girl," said Adam.

"No, I'm not, I'm a boy."

Ben groaned. "Here we go again."

Hoss swung her up in the air. "You're a boy who has to wear a skirt."

"Lemme down, Hoss!"

"Or what?"

"Or...or I'll beat you up!"

"What, after me and Adam made you that lovely new kite?"

"OK. But I'll be cross."

"Oh, in that case..."

He put her down and watched them run out beyond the corral, trying to get their new present to fly. "Little things..." Adam laughed, biting his lip.

"Come on, you two. If we want to go on this trek and go flying tomorrow we'd better get this work done."