"Come on and walk down to the gate with me, and we'll stop at the measuring-tree.

We can't let the old custom go by when we've kept it up so many years, and I won't be back again this vacation." Swinging the letter back and forth to make sure that the ink was dry, she walked along beside him.

"Oh, I wish you weren't going away!" she exclaimed, forlornly.

"It's going to be dreadfully stupid the rest of the summah." They reached the measuring-tree, and taking out his knife and pocket-rule, Rob passed his fingers over the notches which stood for the many years they had measured their heights against the old locust.

Then he held out the rule and waited for her to take her place under it, with her back against the tree.
"What a long way you've stretched up between six and seventeen," he said.