As no one was astir, they went on down to the kitchen, corroborating the time by the various clocks, but utterly unable so understand why the family were still all asleep.
Patty heard them whispering as they went down, and choking with laughter, she prepared to wait another hour for more fun,—and it came.
Elizabeth woke just at seven, and rising, glanced as usual at the watch on the dressing-table.
"Nine o'clock!" she almost screamed, running to her sister's door.
"Barbara! what does this mean? It's nine o'clock! Are you asleep?"
Barbarawasasleep, but she awoke at her sister's call and drew her watch from beneath the pillow.
"It is," she cried, "it's nine o'clock! What shall I do? There's a rehearsal of the Historical Tableaux at ten, and I have to make three wigs before I go."
"But even that isn't as important as my engagement," wailed Elizabeth, who was splashing her face with water. "I have to be at the Authors' Club at nine-thirty, to prepare the room for the reception at eleven, and nothing can be done until I get there. And I must do several errands on my way there. Oh, itcan'tbe nine o'clock. Perhaps my watch stopped at nine last evening. No—it's going. Oh, how unfortunate I am. Mother, mother," she called.
But Mrs. Fleming was already up, and came through the hall with a scared face.
"Girls," she said, "it's after nine o'clock, and Tom has to go away on the 9:45 train. We have overslept ourselves."
"I should think we had," began Elizabeth, but Mrs. Fleming had already gone to her son's room. "Tom, Tom," she called, as she knocked vigorously at the door, "get up, it's after nine o'clock!"
"What!" came from Tom's room, accompanied by a sudden jump out onto the floor.
Ruth had heard the commotion, and she and Patty each appeared at their doors.
"What is it, Aunt Hester?" asked Ruth, roused at last, Patty was glad to see, to some degree of animation.
"Why, Ruthy, it's nine o'clock! We have all overslept. Hurry down-stairs, children, you'll be late to school."
Well, such a commotion as there was; everybody compared watches and clocks, and exclaimed in wonderment and dismay. Tom said that his watch said it was only half-past seven, but of course, as he had said it didn't keep perfect time, it was not believed, when all the others said half-past nine.
After they were all down-stairs and seated at the breakfast table, Patty remarked quietly,
"April Fool! It isn't half-past nine at all; it's only half-past seven. I set all the clocks forward two hours."
"What!" said Cousin Elizabeth, looking as if she would annihilate her. "You little witch! You dared to—" and then she felt such a relief to think she would have ample time to keep her engagement after all, that the ridiculous side of the affair struck her, and she began to laugh.
"Why, Patty Fairfield," said Barbara, and then she too laughed; and Cousin Tom, when he found he could catch his train, thought it all the best joke in the world.
Bridget and Molly enjoyed it the most of all, perhaps because, being Irish, they had a greater sense of humor than the Bostonians, but all agreed that Patty had played a very successful April Fool joke on them. All except Ruth,—she didn't see any fun in it at all, so Patty gave her up as a hopeless case.
One evening as they all sat in the pleasant library, Cousin Elizabeth announced her intention of giving a party for Patty.
"I am afraid," she said, kindly, "that you find it dull with us. We are all so busy with our club work and study, that we have really neglected your entertainment. I am sorry for this, and I mean to give you more youthful pleasures during the remainder of your stay with us."
Patty was delighted, for life at the Flemingswasa little bit humdrum for her, though her aunt and cousins were very kind whenever they had time to remember her existence.
They all fell in with Elizabeth's plan, and began to discuss what kind of a party it should be.
Patty was secretly much amused at the contrast between plans for a party at Villa Rosa, and in Boston. Nothing was said about decorations, and the supper was not mentioned, except when Cousin Elizabeth said she would order some cake and ice cream from a confectioner; and as to dresses, well,theyseemed never to be even thought of by the Fleming ladies. Patty wore the plainest of the clothes her Aunt Isabel had bought for her, but even those were far finer than Ruth's.
Apparently the difference was not noticed, for no one paid the slightest attention to what any one wore.
The Fleming ladies were always dressed neatly and inconspicuously, but Patty concluded they must pick their dresses off of trees, for nothing was ever said about dressmakers or purchase of materials.
So when the party was talked about, all discussion was concerning the entertainment of the minds of the young guests.
Intellectual games were proposed, and even Ruth grew almost excited over the scheme of a "Quotation Salad."
But Cousin Elizabeth said, "Games are not enough. I want something more like a character party. Ah, I have it. Let us ask each guest to represent some children's book, or some favorite character in juvenile literature."
"Just the thing," exclaimed Barbara; "Eddie can be 'Little LordFauntleroy.'"
Eddie was a neighbor's child, who had long flaxen curls and who would make a perfect counterpart of the pictures of Fauntleroy. The Flemings all entered into the plan of the party with their usual enthusiasm, and found time between their numerous engagements to prepare quite a programme of entertainment.
A platform was put up in the library, with curtains to draw in front of it, and as this was done very easily and quickly, Patty rightly judged it had often been done before.
At last the time came, and everything was in readiness. The party was to begin at seven, and promptly at that hour the boys and girls began to arrive. Though seemingly so indifferent to every-day costumes, Cousin Elizabeth had taken much interest in dressing Patty and Ruth for this occasion, and Patty looked very sweet and pretty arrayed as Little Bo-Peep. Cousin Tom had chosen this character for her, and had helped to design the dress. It was, of course, the garb of a dainty little shepherdess, and it had blue panniers over a quilted white satin petticoat, and a black velvet bodice laced over a white chemisette.
Then Patty wore a broad brimmed hat trimmed with roses and fluttering ribbons. High-heeled slippers with bright buckles and a crook tied with blue ribbons added to the quaint effect, and the whole costume was very becoming to pretty Patty.
Ruth looked equally well, though in a very different way.
She represented the Puritan Maiden, Priscilla; who, though not a juvenile character was one of Ruth's favorite heroines, and the dress suited her so well, that Cousin Elizabeth said she should wear it.
A straight, scant gown of Quaker gray silk, a soft white mull kerchief folded across her breast, and a white muslin cap, transformed Ruth into a demure little Puritan maid.
Her small, pale face and quiet eyes suited the character, and the modest garb was very becoming.
Among the guests were represented, Red Ridinghood, Cinderella, Little Boy Blue, Simple Simon, and many other well-known personages from Fairy Tales or Mother Goose's Melodies.
Then there were characters from more recent books, such as Little Women, Alice in Wonderland, Master Skylark and even Arabella and Araminta, who were dressed exactly alike.
Historical characters were there too; the Princess in the Tower chatted amiably with Joan of Arc, while Lady Jane Grey compared notes with Pocahontas.
Some of the children wore such nondescript costumes that it was difficult to guess whom they intended to represent.
After all had arrived the programme of entertainment was begun.
The motley crowd was seated in the library and soon the curtains in front of the platform were drawn apart revealing a table on which was a large gramophone.
Cousin Tom manipulated the instrument and the children heard orchestral music, plantation songs, comic speeches, and finally the exhibition-day exercises of a district school, which made them all laugh. After this, several of the guests were called on to recite or to sing, and as they had been notified beforehand, they were prepared for the occasion, and exerted their best elocutionary and vocal efforts.
As her contribution to the entertainment, Patty sang several of RobertLouis Stevenson's child-songs, which are set to such beautiful music, andRuth recited a portion of "The Courtship of Miles Standish."
Then the curtains were drawn, and soon after the lights in the room were all turned out. Then the curtains flew open again disclosing a white sheet brightly illuminated from behind.
Somebody read aloud the poem by Richard Barham about "The Knight and the Lady," while a shadow pantomime representing the action of the ballad was shown on the sheet.
It was very funny.
Cousin Elizabeth was the Lady Jane, who was "tall and slim," while the part of Sir Thomas was wonderfully well acted by Cousin Tom, and when that portly old gentleman, who it seems was a naturalist, went around "unearthing his worms and his grubs," he looked very funny indeed.
And then when"Close by the sideOf the bank he espiedAn uncommon fine tadpole, remarkably fat;He stooped, and he thought her his own, he had caught her,Got hold of her tail, and to land almost brought her,When, he plumped head and heels into fifteen feet water,"and the shadow Sir Thomas ducked suddenly into the pond, and a very realsplashing was heard, the delighted audience fairly shouted with laughter.
And then when the funny old gardener appeared, bringing to the august Lady Jane the news of Sir Thomas' fate, and when the jocund Captain McBride tried to console the weeping lady,—but, no, I can't tell it all to you; to see how funny it all was you will have to read the ballad in the "Ingoldsby Legends" for yourself.
When that was over, sandwiches, ices and cakes were served and they seemed to be as thoroughly enjoyed by the young people as were Aunt Isabel's elaborate feasts, though by contrast it seemed to Patty a very slight repast.
Next came the "Quotation Salad" which was Ruth's pride and delight.
Cousin Elizabeth passed around a great bowl, which seemed to be full of leaves of crisp, green lettuce.
They were, however, made of tissue paper, and each leaf had attached to it a strip of writing paper on which was written a quotation.
These were from well-known poems or historic speeches, or even from MotherGoose's Melodies and other juvenile classics.
Each child drew out three leaves, and endeavored to remember or guess the source of the quotations written thereon.
Then the roll was called, and all who could give their three answers correctly were marked one hundred.
After this, the unguessed ones were read aloud, and whoever could answer them received ten more on his or her score for each perfect answer.
To the child attaining the highest score, a prize of a Dictionary ofQuotations was to be awarded.
Patty's three questions were easy enough. One was "His cause is marching on."
Another was "Twinkle, twinkle little bat," and the third was "Don't give up the ship."
She could place all three, but when the more difficult ones were announced, she found that she knew very little about general literature.
Ruth, however, could tell the author of nearly every one, and no one was surprised when her score was declared the highest.
However, as she was the hostess, she declined to accept the prize, and it was given to the guest whose score stood the next highest.
Other intellectual or literary games were played, and at eleven o'clock the children were sent home, and Aunt Hester bade Ruth and Patty go to bed at once, lest they should not feel like getting up at the usual hour the next morning.
Patty heartily thanked Cousin Elizabeth for taking so much pains to make the party a pleasant one, and ran away to bed, wondering if many little girls had such clever relatives.
The spring flew by, and Patty could scarcely realize that she had been in Boston nearly three months, when a letter came from Mrs. Barlow her mother's sister, at whose house she was to visit next.
"My dear Patty," her Aunt Grace wrote, "we are going to our country home on Long Island about the first of June, and we want you to come to us as soon as we get settled there. No,—not settled, we're never that, but as soon as we get enough things straightened out to live with. Our country-place is called 'The Hurly-Burly,' so you may prepare yourself to see a family that lives up to that name. But there is plenty of amusement, if you are fond of boating and bathing, and we will all welcome you with open arms and glad hearts; and the sooner you come, the better we shall like it. Your cousins, Bob and Bumble are very anxious to see you, and are making wonderful plans for your entertainment. So come as soon as you can, and if you will let us know at what hour to expect you, Uncle Theodore will meet you at the Grand Central Station in New York, and bring you over to us at Long Island.
"Your loving Aunt,
"But I don't want you to go," said Ruth, when she heard the letter read;"I'd like to have you stay here always."
Patty was surprised at this, for Ruth had always seemed so cold and unresponsive, that it didn't seem as if she had any affection in her nature.
The other members of the Fleming family echoed Ruth's sentiments, and though Patty felt sure their expressions were honestly meant, yet she thought, too, that as soon as she had gone, she would be forgotten in the rush of their busy life.
One morning in early June as they sat at the breakfast-table, Patty received a telegram, which said:
"Come at once before all are drowned. Grand Central five.
Although Patty didn't know it, Helen was the real name of her cousin who was always called Bumble, and Patty, horror-stricken at the import of this message, read it aloud, asking what it could mean.
The Fleming family were entirely unacquainted with the Barlows, and could give no clue, but one and all were filled with consternation at the peremptory summons.
Cousin Tom took the yellow paper and perused it carefully, then said:
"One thing is clear, at any rate, Patty, they expect you to be at the Grand Central Station in New York to-day at five o'clock, and you shall be there, for I'll take you myself."
So they all helped with the packing, and succeeded in getting one trunk ready for Patty to take with her, promising to send her other belongings after her a few days later.
With hurried good-byes and a promise of another visit to Boston at some future time, Patty went away with Cousin Tom, and they took the train for New York.
Patty and Cousin Tom reached the Grand Central station in New York about six o'clock, and leaving the train, went in search of any member of the Barlow family who might be there to meet them.
They hadn't walked a dozen steps before they were confronted by three broadly smiling faces.
These faces belonged to a tall, large man with his arms full of bundles, and a boy and girl who seemed both to be about Patty's own age.
"You're Patty, I know it,—I know it!" cried the girl, and she flung her arms round Patty's neck and kissed her heartily. "I am Bumble, and this is Bob, my twin; oh, I'm so glad to get you."
By this time Bob was shaking Patty's hand vigorously, and Mr. Barlow was trying to squeeze all of his bundles into one arm, that he might have a hand free to offer his niece.
Then Patty introduced Cousin Tom, and the party all went into the waiting-room together.
"But who sent me that telegram? and who is Helen?" inquired Patty, as she walked along with one of her twin cousins clinging to either arm.
"Oh, that's me," said Bumble. "My real name's Helen, but nobody ever calls me it."
"Because she's like a bumble-bee," explained Bob. "She's always tumbling about and knocking into people, and she's so buzzy and fat."
"Yes," said Bumble, good-naturedly, "I am; I'd like to be slim and graceful like you, but I'm not, so I just put up with myself and have all the fun I can."
Mr. Barlow gave Mr. Fleming a cordial invitation to continue his journey with Patty, and spend the night at "The Hurly-Burly," as his country-place on Long Island was called, but Cousin Tom declined, saying he had business in New York.
"But, Patty," he said, "your new-found relatives seem to be in no immediate danger of drowning."
"No," said Patty, who was consumed with curiosity to know what the telegram could have meant.
"Drowning!" exclaimed Mr. Barlow, "what are you talking about? The bathing is very safe at our place; there's really no danger at all, unless one is positively foolhardy."
"No," said Patty, "but my telegram said—"
"Oh, I know," broke in Bumble. "Papa left it to me to send you word to come to-day, and I didn't get at it until it was too late to write, so I telegraphed,—and I was so afraid you wouldn't get here before the kittens were drowned, that I mentioned it to make you hurry up."
"Kittens!" exclaimed Patty, laughing, "you didn't say kittens."
"I know it, but the ten words gave out too soon. I just had room to get in that we'd meet you at five o'clock. Oh, the kittens are such dears! Two black ones and a white one and a spotted one—The white one is the prettiest, but she's an idiot, poor thing."
Cousin Tom was relieved to learn that no human beings were in jeopardy of their lives, but he secretly thought that Patty's new home was to be among very erratic people.
He bade his small cousin good-bye with real regret, for he and Patty had become firm friends during her Boston visit. After Mr. Fleming had left them, Mr. Barlow picked up all his bundles and packages, and telling the three children to follow him, he stalked away at a rapid pace.
Bob took Patty's satchel and Bumble took her umbrella, then they each grasped her arm and marched her along after their father.
"You see," explained Bob, "dad walks so very fast that we have to scurry to keep him in sight. So we'll boost you along,—it'll only be a minute."
And sure enough in a moment Mr. Barlow stopped at a street-car, and turned around expecting to find the children at his elbow, and there they were. He put them on the car, jumped on himself, and they all went over to the ferry.
A ride across the East River on the ferry-boat, and then a short ride in the cars brought them to the station of Sandy Cove.
Here Mr. Barlow expected his own carriage to be awaiting them, but no carriage was in sight. As it was growing dusk, and their home was still two miles distant, this was very annoying.
"I'll walk over home, and bring the carriage back for you," volunteeredBob; "it must be that Dil has forgotten to come for us."
"No," said his father, "you needn't do that,—we'll all jog along together and probably we'll meet Dil on the way."
"Dil is the man who takes care of our horse," said Bumble, as they walked along. "That's short for Dilatory, and we call him that 'cause he's so slow. In fact, we never know whether he's coming for us, or not."
And, apparently, this time Dilatory was not coming, for the travelers walked all the way without meeting the carriage. As they walked up the path, Patty was somewhat surprised to see that what Mr. Barlow called a cottage was in reality a large house. Wide verandas ran all the way round it on both the first and second stories, and magnificent trees waved their branches around and over it.
"This is the Hurly-Burly, Patty," said her uncle, "and if anything isn't quite in order, you must pardon it, for we're scarcely settled yet, and haven't had time to get everything to rights; and your Aunt Grace had the misfortune to sprain her ankle yesterday, so she can't attend to things as she otherwise would. But whatever you want just you come straight and tell your Uncle Teddy, and you shall have it, if it's a roc's egg."
Patty laughed, for she well knew what happened once when a roc's egg was asked for.
Then they entered the main front door, and Patty found herself in a wide hall that ran straight through the house with a door at either end.
There were large rooms on both sides of the hall, and following her uncle into one of these rooms, which was the sitting-room or general living-room of the family, Patty saw a remarkable sight. In a large armchair sat a sweet-faced lady, with an ottoman in front of her, on which her bandaged foot was resting on a pillow. She was reading a book, which she laid down as she heard people approaching, and over her head she held an open umbrella.
This was a wise precaution, for a drenching rain was pouring on the umbrella, and water dripped steadily from the ends of its ribs.
"Why, Grace," exclaimed Mr. Barlow, "what are you doing? What has happened?"
"The tank must have burst," returned his wife, placidly, "but fortunately I had this umbrella by me, so I opened it, and as you see, I am scarcely wet at all. Is this Patty? Come here, my dear. I am your Aunt Grace, your mother's sister, and I am prepared to love my little niece very much."
Patty returned very willingly her aunt's loving caress, and the two nestled together under the big umbrella, while Bob and Bumble laughed at the funny picture they made.
Uncle Ted had hastily dropped all his bundles on the hall table, and had run up-stairs to see what was the matter with the tank.
"I have a sprained ankle, Patty," said her aunt, by way of explanation of her predicament, "and I can't move a step. So I keep a cane near me to knock on the floor when I want anybody to fetch me things, but the cane got mislaid somehow, so I had this umbrella in its place. And wasn't it fortunate? For when the water began to drip down I just put up the umbrella and protected myself perfectly. The only trouble was, I couldn't close it to knock on the floor without getting myself drenched, so, as I had an interesting book I just waited patiently for somebody to come. The servants have gone on an excursion and Nan is away, too, so there was no one to knock for except old Dilatory, and he wouldn't have heard me anyway. Now, Bob, if you'll get another umbrella to hold over yourself while you move me to dryer quarters I'll be truly grateful."
"Take mine," said Patty, running to fetch it, and then she held her open umbrella over Bob while he wheeled his mother's chair across the hall and into the music-room.
Bumble moved the ottoman at the same time, and though she meant to be very careful, she bumped the wounded foot terribly when going over the door-sills, but Mrs. Barlow pretended it didn't hurt her, and thanked the children lovingly for their assistance. "Now, Bob," she said, "run and help your father, I suppose he's up in the tank-room investigating the source of that waterfall. Tell him he'd better send Dil for a plumber at once; and Bumble, you go and see if cook has returned yet, for if not, I don't know when we'll get any dinner. Patty, dear, take off your hat and jacket and then come and sit here by me, and we'll have a little talk. You remind me very much of your mother at your age. Do you remember her at all?"
"No, Aunt Grace; I wish I could, but she died when I was only three, you know. I have a beautiful picture of her."
"Have you? you must show it to me when your trunks come. You are like your mother in form and feature, and I hope your disposition is like hers. She was the loveliest woman I ever knew. So sweet and gentle, and so unselfish."
"I think you look like her picture, Aunt Grace," said Patty, gazing earnestly at her aunt.
"Oh, no, child; she was a hundred times more beautiful than I. And she was so neat and dainty, and always did the right thing at the right time. I was the harum-scarum of the family, and I'm sorry to say, my children seem to have inherited my traits of character. They are so careless, forgetful and unsystematic. But they're dear sweet children, and I hope, Patty, you will learn to love your Barlow cousins."
"I don't need to learn, Aunt Grace, I love them already. Bob is such a frank, pleasant boy, and Bumble is a dear; so witty and bright."
"Yes, they are intelligent; and if you will be patient with our shortcomings, I think we will be very happy together. And our household, at present, contains another member. Nan Allen, who is visiting here, is a neighbor of ours in Philadelphia, and though several years older than you, she is a most charming young woman, and I'm sure you will like her. Gracious! how the water is pouring down in the sitting-room yet. I wish I could get up on my feet. Run up-stairs, Patty, and find your Uncle Ted, and ask him what is to be done about it?"
Although unacquainted with the house, Patty ran up-stairs, and through various rooms, but without finding her uncle.
Anxious to do her aunt's bidding, she ran on up to the third story, and in a large attic room she found her uncle standing before a large old-fashioned bookcase, eagerly reading a volume which he held in his hands.
"What about the water, Uncle Ted?" said Patty.
"Yes,—in a minute,—I'm going to attend to it. I'm so surprised to find all these books here. We rented this cottage furnished, you know, and I haven't been up here before. I'd no idea these books were here. Yes,—I'll see about the water at once."
Patty went with her uncle to what he called the tank-room, and there Mr. Barlow discovered that the leak was in a supply pipe which could easily be shut off. This he did, and the downpour was immediately stopped, although no water could be drawn through the house until the plumbers should come and repair the pipes.
"Ted," said Mrs. Barlow, as her husband and Patty returned, "I don't believe Hopalong will be home in time to cook dinner, so suppose we have a pick-up supper? It's getting late, and Patty must be nearly starved after her journey from Boston."
"All right," said Uncle Ted, cheerily; "is there anything in the house to eat? Where's Bumble?"
"Go and hunt her up, please, and tell her I want her. And did you get the cheese and fruit as I asked you to?"
"Yes, I bought out the whole market and carried it all home with me."
"Very well, then we won't starve. Now wheel me into the dining-room andI'll see what we have on hand."
Just then Bob and Bumble appeared, each carrying two kittens, and these four sprawling bits of animal life were deposited in Mrs. Barlow's lap, while Patty was called upon to admire them.
"They are very cunning," said she, stroking them rather gingerly, for they seemed very small and frail.
"Oh, you can't hurt them," said Bob; "see, pick 'em up this way," and he grasped one by the back of its neck and held it sprawling in the air.
"No, hold one this way," said Bumble, cuddling a little ball of fur in the palm of her hand. "But, mumsey, I'm awful hungry; aren't we going to have any dinner? Where's Hopalong?"
"She's gone on the excursion, my dear. Poor thing, she works so hard I'm glad for her to have a little outing."
"H'm, she gets one about twice a week," said Bob; "Hopalong's the cook, Patty. We call her that 'cause she isn't very lively, and she just shuffles about. But she's a good-natured old thing, and such a good cook—"
"Here, children, take this flock of cats," said Mrs. Barlow, "and we'll soon have something to eat, cook or no cook."
Bumble gathered up the kittens, beginning with the white one. "This is the idiot," she said, "but isn't it a pretty cat? You can see she's half-witted, 'cause only one eye is open, and she has such a general air of stupidity."
"She might turn out to be the smartest of the lot," said Patty.
"I wish I could keep her and see, but dad says they must all be drowned to-morrow. I neglected the last kitten I had, and didn't feed her regularly, so the poor thing died. Daddy, if you'll let me keep this one, I'll never,neverforget to feed her—honest I won't. Please let me keep just this one," and Bumble rubbed the furry ball on her father's cheek.
"Well, take them away now, and we'll see about it," said her father, and Bumble danced off with the kittens feeling almost sure that she had gained her point.
Then Bob and his father moved Mrs. Barlow with her chair and footstool out to the dining-room.
"I don't know what there is, myself," she said, "but we'll forage in the sideboard and pantry and see."
The foraging resulted in a pair of cold roasted ducks, plenty of plum-cake and a cherry-pie.
"I'm sorry there isn't any bread," said Mrs. Barlow, apologetically; "I told Hopalong to order it as she went by the baker's, but I fear she forgot it."
"Never mind," said Bob, "I don't care much for bread, anyhow, do you,Patty? Mother, here's a lot of cold potatoes. Can't you make a salad?"
"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Barlow; so the children brought the ingredients, and a fine salad was soon concocted.
While this was going on, Miss Allen came running in.
"Oh," she exclaimed, "I'm as hungry as a hunter. We've been out sailing, and I'vesuchan appetite. Who is this pretty child?"
"This is Patty Fairfield," said Bumble, "my cousin, from the South."
"Oh, yes, of course, I knew you expected her to-day. How do you do, Patty? I'm very glad to see you. I am Nan Allen, and I want you to like me better than you do any of the Barlows. Do you hear?"
"Yes," said Patty, "but I'll wait until I see if you like me."
Miss Allen was a very pretty young lady, of about twenty, with sparkling black eyes, and a lot of curly golden hair, which she wore massed high on her head. She was extremely vivacious and Patty liked her at once.
Then Bumble set the silver basket on the table, and Nan brought a pile of plates and everybody helped himself or herself to such viands as they wished.
There was much laughter and gay talk, and Patty enjoyed the informal meal immensely.
"Why do you call this the music-room?" asked Patty; "there's no piano in it, nor any musical instrument that I can see."
"That's just the reason why," replied Nan. "I christened the room myself, and I called it the music-room because it hasn't anything musical in it. I get so tired of seeing music-rooms filled with pianos and banjos and mandolins and guitars. This is a refreshing change. And besides, when we want music we can sing."
"Then won't you sing now?" said Patty. "I'd like to hear you."
"Why, of course we will; would you like to hear some of our original songs?"
"Yes, indeed! Do you make songs yourself?"
"Oh, we always make our own songs. Home-made songs are ever so much better than boughten ones. They fit better and wear longer. We don't make the tunes, though; we just appropriate those. First we'll sing you 'The Song of the House.'"
This was sung to the air of "The Kerry Dance," and the whole family joined their voices with Nan's, and all sang with great spirit.
Come, oh, come to the Hurly-Burly,Come and join in the jolly funThat begins in the morning early,And continues till day is done.
Sailing, swimming, walking, riding,—On the land or on the sea;At the Hurly-Burly biding,We're as happy as we can be.
Oh, the jollity, oh, the gayety,Just come down and see;
CHORUS:—Come, oh, come, etc.
Sometimes we take sandwiches of chick,And go off on a merry pick-a-nick;Sometimes we in hammocks idly swing,At other times we only sit and si-i-ng—
CHORUS:—Come, oh, come, etc.
"That's beautiful," said Patty when they had finished the song. "I'll learn the words, and then I can sing it with you."
"Indeed you must" said Nan, "and now I'll sing you the song of the Barlow family; they won't sing it themselves, but when you learn it, you and I can warble it together."
"Sing a song of Barlows,A family full of fun;A father and a mother,A daughter and a son.
"When the door is openHear the family sing!All the people passing byRun like anything."
"It's a base libel," said Uncle Ted; "we sing beautifully, and except thatBumble flats, and Bob has no ear, there isn't a flaw in our singing."
The evening passed merrily by, and when it was bedtime, Bumble showed Patty to her room.
When Patty found that a large front room on the second floor had been allotted to her, she expressed a fear lest she might be inconveniencing some one else by taking one of the choice rooms of the house.
"Not a bit," said Bumble. "Nan has the tower-room, because she likes it better, and the house is so big, there are plenty of rooms, anyway. Of course, if a lot of company comes, we may ask you to give up this, and take a smaller room, but you wouldn't mind that, would you?"
"No, indeed," said Patty. "I'll move out at any time." Then Bumble kissed her cousin good-night and went away.
Patty's trunk had been placed in her room, and she found that some one had kindly unfastened its straps and clasps, so she had only to unlock it. She unpacked her clothes, and hung up her dresses in the wardrobe and cupboard, and put things neatly away in the bureau-drawers.
She placed her mother's picture on a small table, and looking at it critically, she concluded that it was like Aunt Grace, but much prettier.
After this, Patty looked round the great room with much interest. It seemed to contain a perfect hodge-podge of furniture. There were three dressing-bureaus, and a huge wash-stand with two bowls and pitchers on it. There were several large easy chairs, and an old haircloth sofa; there were small tables, and bookcases, and a cabinet filled with bric-a-brac, but,—and Patty could scarcely believe her eyes,—there was no bed!
When this fact dawned upon her, she concluded that one of the bookcases or bureaus must be a folding-bed.
She tried to open them, but the bureau-drawers and the bookcase-shelves proved themselves to be really what they seemed; then she looked for a bed concealed in an alcove or an anteroom, but the curtains hid only windows and the doors opened into ordinary closets.
Patty even looked in the fireplace and up the chimney, but she was gradually forced to the conclusion that there was no bed at her disposal, and that she must either report this fact to some member of the family or sit up all night.
As it was now late she hesitated to trouble anybody about the matter, and thought she would rather manage without a bed.
She did think of asking Bumble to let her share her room, but she didn't know where her cousin's room was, and too, there might be only a single bed in it. So Patty decided to try the old sofa.
As she had no pillow or bed-clothing, she rolled up a dress to put under her head and pinned two skirts together for a coverlet.
But the old haircloth scratched her bare feet, and poor Patty soon jumped up and sought another resting-place.
She cuddled up in a big armchair which was soft and warm, and there she soon fell asleep. But later, she awoke, so stiff from her cramped position, that she could scarcely move. So then she lay down on the floor and slept there the rest of the night.
Next morning she dressed herself and went down-stairs at about eight o'clock, but nobody was in sight, so Patty went out on the veranda and watched the waves as they came rolling and tumbling up on the beach.
Then, with a view to exploring her new home, she walked round the house.
This brought her to the kitchen, and through the window she saw a fat old black woman raking rigorously at the range.
"Dis yer stove 'll make me lose my 'ligion," Patty heard her murmur, and she felt sure she was listening to old Hopalong. "Good-morning, Hopalong," she cried.
"'Mawnin', missy; an' who be you?"
"I'm Patty Fairfield, and I'm Mrs. Barlow's niece, and I've come to stay all summer."
"Dat's good. I see you'se a nice, pretty-behaved little lady. Any ob de fam'ly 'round yit?"
"No, I haven't seen anybody."
"Well, yere comes Massa Ted; now I mus' jes' be spry 'bout gettin' my co'n brade done."
Hopalong shuffled away, and Patty turned to see Uncle Ted coming towards her.
"Hello, Patty-girl," he cried, "you're up be times."
"Yes," said Patty, "and so are you. Oh, Uncle Teddy, isn't the sea gorgeous? I do love it so, and I'm so glad I'm here!"
"That's good, little one; I'm glad you're glad. And now come to breakfast."
Aunt Grace had been carried down-stairs by her husband and son, and was already in her place at the table.
She called Patty to her and kissed her affectionately, and asked her if she slept well. Patty hesitated a moment, then breaking into a merry laugh, she said:
"Why, Auntie Grace, Ididn'tsleep very well, for I hadn't any bed."
"What?" exclaimed her aunt, in horror, "why, Patty, I ordered a little brass bed sent from Philadelphia purposely for you, and it arrived yesterday morning. I told Dil to put it up in your room, and I told Eunice to see that it was properly made. But I confess I did forget to ask if my orders had been carried out, and,—I suppose they weren't. You poor child! How did you manage? Why didn't you tell us?"
"Well, I didn't notice it until quite late," said Patty. "I was so busy putting my clothes and things away, that I never thought of anything else at the time. And, anyway, I didn't mind for one night."
Just then Bumble came in, and when she heard about Patty's experience she looked astounded. "Why," said she, "I took Patty to her room myself, and I never noticed that there was no bed there!"
"You're a rattle-pated goosey," said her father: "but never mind, Patty, you shall have two beds to-night to make up for it,—I'll promise you that."
"Don't believe him," cried Nan, gayly, as she ran into the dining-room. "I don't know what Uncle Ted is saying to you,—but he won't do it. He never kept a promise in his life!"
"'Oh, promise me,'" began Uncle Ted, and then they all joined in and sang:
"Oh, promise me that some day you and IWill take a piece of huckleberry pie,Some deviled eggs and strawberry ice cream,And have a picnic down by yonder stream.And then we'll wander through the fields afar,And take a ride upon a trolley car;But we'll come home again in time for tea,—Oh, promise me—oh, promise me-e-e—"
The last refrain rang out with a prolonged wail that seemed to Patty the funniest thing she had ever heard, and she fairly shouted with laughter.
"Oh, dear, you are the funniest family," she exclaimed; "I think I shall stay here six months instead of three."
Patty was right when she called the Barlows a funny family, for their spirits were irrepressible, and each day, from morning till night was filled with jokes and absurdities accompanied or followed by gales of laughter.
But they were heedless, forgetful people, and the whole household showed an utter lack of systematic management.
Nothing was ever to be found in its place; meals were served at any hour when old Hopalong got them ready. Sometimes the market orders were neglected and there was almost nothing to eat, and then again there was such an overstock that much had to be wasted. The children were allowed to do exactly as they chose, and were never reproved; but if their own mischief led them into misfortune, or their pranks turned out disastrously, they were expected to stand the consequences bravely, and look for little or no sympathy from their elders.
Patty had not been at the Hurly-Burly many days before she discovered that its proportion of order and regularity was entirely too small. To be sure, in the Fleming family it had been too large; but she thought there must be a happy medium, a state of things whereby one could expect the ordinary events of daily life to come in due course, without, however, living as if by clockwork. You see Patty was becoming a very wise little girl, for she was profiting by her varied experiences, and trying to learn the best way to take care of her father's house and make it a real home for him. Sometimes she felt this responsibility very greatly, and longed for some motherly, housewifely friend to talk with about it.
But Aunt Grace, though loving and affectionate, was no help in such matters.
"Nonsense, child," she would say, "don't worry about your housekeeping; why, the house will keep itself, if you let it alone. And you're too young to be bothered with a weight of domestic care, anyway. Now run off and play with Bob and Bumble. Go for a row or a drive and let the breeze blow all such worries out of your little noddle."
So Patty ran away and played with her cousins, and they did have jolly good times.
There were so many nice things to do; fishing sailing, bathing, boating, driving, golf, tennis, and all sorts of outdoor amusements were at their disposal.
The Barlow twins, Nan Allen and Patty made a gay quartette, and if they desired a larger party, there were plenty of neighbors ready to join in their fun.
One warm afternoon, Patty and Bumble sat in a hammock swung under the trees, while Bob sprawled on the grass near them.
"Girls," said he, "come on, let's go for a swim. The Smiths and the Enfields just went down towards the bath-houses, and there'll be a jolly crowd in the water."
"All right, let's go," replied his sister. "Where's Nan?"
"She's in the house somewhere," said Patty. "I'll go find her."
Patty ran into the house and looked in at the music-room door, as a beginning of her search, but there she saw such a startling sight that she stood spellbound, unable to go any further.
At the writing-desk sat a person whose head was entirely bald. Not a spear of hair was anywhere visible on the bare, pinky-white scalp, and the round head was smooth and shiny as a billiard-ball.
Then the head turned round and faced Patty, with rolling eyes and a weird grimace. But Patty looked so astounded and frightened that the face broke into a reassuring smile, and Nan's voice said:
"Why, Patty, don't be scared; it's only I. Didn't you know I wore a wig?There it is, on that chair."
And sure enough, there was Nan's mop of frizzed, flaxen hair hanging on a chair-back.
"But," said Patty, coming nearer, and still unable quite to comprehend it all, "why don't you have any hair yourself?"
"Well, you see," said Nan, as she sealed and addressed the letter she had been writing, "I had typhoid fever just before I left home, and my hair came out so, that I had to have it all shaved off. So now I am wearing a wig until it grows again. But it is so warm to-day, I took my wig off for a few moments to rest my head."
Patty examined the wig with great interest.
"I think it's wonderful," she said, "is it just like your own hair was?"
"No, indeed, I wanted a change. My own hair is very dark, almost black, and perfectly straight. So I bought this Flaxie Frizzle wig for a change. It's becoming, don't you think so? I have a red wig too,—of short, curly auburn hair. Sometimes I wear that."
Patty watched Nan curiously, as she put the wig on, securing it to her head by invisible springs.
"I never saw anybody with a wig before," she said, "and it surprises me so; but I came to ask you to go swimming with us."
"Can't do it," said Nan; "I have two more letters to write, and then I'm going driving with the Perrys. They're to call for me at four o'clock, and it's after three now. You'll have to go without me this time."
"All right," said Patty, backing out of the room, for her eyes were still fixed on the wonderful wig.
Then she rejoined her cousins, and they all ran to the bath-houses.
They had a fine bath, and were about ready to come out of the water whenNan appeared.
She was dressed in a fresh white piqué suit, with blue ribbons at her throat and belt, and was looking very pretty but decidedly disappointed.
She walked out to the end of the narrow wooden pier, and the swimmers came up to talk to her.
Patty didn't swim very well as yet, but she was learning, and Uncle Ted andBob said she was getting along finely.
"I thought you were going out with the Perrys," cried Bumble.
"I was,—" said Nan, "but they didn't come. I've been dressed and waiting for them half an hour, then I looked again at the note they sent me, and I made a mistake; it's to-morrow they asked me to go. So I came down here, and I wish I was in the water with you."
"Come on in," said Bob.
"Too much trouble to get into my bathing-suit."
"Don't do it," said Bumble; "we're coming out now, anyway. But the water is fine, to-day, isn't it, Patty?"
"Glorious!" gurgled Patty, as she floundered about in her frantic endeavors to swim. Suddenly, Nan snatched off her wig, and dropped it down on the dock.
Then with dramatic gestures, she wrung her hands, waved them above her head, and cried out in agonized tones:
"I am desperate! No longer can I bear this sad and weary life. Iwillend it!" Apparently in the last stages of despair, she strode to the end of the dock, and threw herself headlong into the water.
Patty was aghast, but Bob and Bumble were accustomed to Nan's mad tricks, and they shouted with laughter.
In a moment the bald head reappeared above the water, for Nan could dive and swim wonderfully well.
"I'm afraid my dress will get wet," she said, "but when I saw you all having such fun, I just couldn't help jumping in."
"Crazy Nan," said Bumble, "you've spoiled your clean dress, and you can't swim with your shoes on, anyway, can you?"
"Not very well," said Nan, regretfully, "and they're my best shoes, too.But I don't care; I'll get a bath and have some fun."
Later on, the four young people, much refreshed and exhilarated, assembled in the music-room to wait for dinner.
Aunt Grace, whose sprained ankle was getting better, and who could now limp around with the aid of a crutch, was there too.
"Geranium Blossom! but I'm hungry," exclaimed Bob. "Mumsey, do you s'pose we're going to have any dinner to-night?"
"I think so, my boy," returned Mrs. Barlow, placidly, "but go and get a biscuit if you'd like one."
"I'll tell you what," said Nan, "let's have tea while we wait. There'll be plenty of time, for Eunice has just begun to lay the table for dinner."
"All right," said Bumble. "Patty, if you'll get the hot water, I'll cut up a lemon."
"But there aren't any lemons," said her mother. "I looked for one to-day, and they're all out."
"There aren't any biscuits, either," said Bob, coming back from a fruitless quest; "the box is empty."
"And there doesn't seem to be any sugar," said Nan, peering into the sugar-bowl on the tea-table.
"Well, I'll tell you what," said Bumble, "let's pretend to have tea. You know some people say, if you think you have anything, you have it."
"All right," said Patty, who dearly loved to pretend, "I'll make the tea."
So she pretended to measure out some tea from the caddy, and put it in the teapot. Then she poured imaginary water from the teakettle upon it, and covered the teapot tightly with the cosey. After allowing it a little time to "draw" she pretended to pour it into cups, in which Bumble had already placed imaginary sugar-lumps and bits of lemon.
Bob offered his services as waiter, and passed the cups to his mother and Nan, and also to imaginary guests, who, he pretended, were sitting on the chairs and sofa.
"This tea is delicious," said Aunt Grace, stirring in her empty cup, and sipping from her empty spoon.
"Yes," said Patty, "it is real Russian tea. Do have some more, won't you?"
"Indeed, I will," said Aunt Grace, and Patty poured her another empty cupful.
"Pass the biscuit, Bumble," said Bob, and his sister carried around the empty biscuit-jar, while the guests helped themselves to nothing.
Uncle Ted came in in the midst of the tea joke, and drank several cups of air, until Patty finally peeped into the teapot, and said, "You'll all have to stop, for there isn't any tea left."
Bob carried the cups back to the tea-table, and all declared they had had a very nice tea-party.
"But why don't you have a tea-party, girls?" said Uncle Ted, "a real one, I mean. Invite all the neighbors and have a nice spread. I'll decorate a bit with Japanese lanterns, and we'll make it a general festivity."
"Oh, lovely!" cried Bumble, "if mamma is well enough to stand the excitement."
"Aunt Grace needn't have any of the trouble," said Nan. "I'll order things, and help get the house ready. We girls will do all the work, and Aunt Grace can just be an invited guest."
"Let's make it a lawn-party," said Bob, "and we'll have supper served in a tent."
"Let me see," said Uncle Ted, "to-day is Monday. There's no use waiting too long, and the moon is nearly at its full now. Suppose we have the party on Thursday; can you all be ready by that time?"
"Oh, yes," said Nan, "there's nothing much to do. Let's write the invitations to-night."
So during dinner, which was finally announced, they completed their plans for a garden-party from five o'clock to ten Thursday evening; and after dinner Nan wrote the invitations, and Patty addressed them, while the rest discussed and decided who should be invited to the party.
The next day Patty announced her willingness to do anything she could to assist in the preparations for the lawn-party; and Aunt Grace kissed her fondly, and said she was a dear little helper, and they would be only too glad to make use of her services.
But the day passed by and nothing was done. Everybody went for a swim in the morning, and in the afternoon Nan went driving, and Patty and the twins were invited to a neighbor's to play tennis. Then in the evening they all went for a moonlight sail.
After they returned, Patty ventured to remind her procrastinating relatives that there was very little time left in which to prepare for the various entertainments they had suggested.
"Jumping grasshoppers!" exclaimed Bob whose expletives were often of his own invention, "I meant to set old Dil at work to-day, clearing a place for a tent. Dad, we must go over to the city to-morrow, and get a tent, and some lanterns and flags. We want to make the place look gay and festive."
"Yes, we'll go," said his father, heartily, "and the girls can go with us, if they like."
"Wedolike," cried Bumble, "and after we buy the things, won't you take us to the Zoo, to see the baby hippopotamus?"
"But," said Patty, "I think we ought to stay at home and help Aunt Grace."
"No, no," said her aunt, "there's nothing much to do; I'll get somebody in to help Hopalong make cakes and jellies, and we can leave the house decorations until Thursday."
"Yes, that will be best," said Nan, "for to-morrow I'm going over toMontauk Point for the day, but I'll help all day Thursday."
"We'll all work with more enthusiasm when the day of the party comes," saidAunt Grace, "and now run along to bed, all of you."
Next day the family rose late, and breakfast was much later, so that it was noon before they started for New York.
Then Bob proposed that they go to the Zoo first, and do the shopping afterwards. This they did, and the result was, that, as the animals were so interesting, after they had seen them all it was too late to go to the shops.
"Whew! I'd no idea it was so late," said Uncle Ted, looking at his watch; "but never mind. We'll go home now, and I'll telegraph early in the morning, and the tent and lanterns can be sent over at once, and we can easily get them put up in time."
When they reached home they found Aunt Grace entertaining some friends who had come to spend the day. They were delightful people, and Aunt Grace had found them so absorbing that she had entirely forgotten to send for an assistant to prepare dainties for the party.
But nobody seemed to mind, and Patty concluded it was not her place to comment on the way things were going, at least, not to the Hurly-Burly people themselves.
But when she wrote that night to her father, she said:
"I'm glad you didn't describe my aunts to me, but let me discover their traits for myself. For, really, I never would have believed a familycouldact like the Barlows. They are out of proportioneveryway, but, after all, I can't help loving them, for they are such dear, kind people, and theymeanto do right, only they never do anything."
But as the next day was Thursday, and some thingshadto be done, everybody began to hustle and bustle and fly around generally.
Uncle Ted sent to New York by a special messenger for a tent, and a lot of lanterns and gay bunting, and succeeded in getting them soon after noon. Then he and Bob and old Dil put the tent up, and hung the lanterns along the veranda and among the trees.
Nan drove all around the country trying to find a cook to assist Hopalong, but as none was to be found, Aunt Grace had to go down to the kitchen and make some of the cakes herself.
Nan and Bumble made sandwiches and squeezed lemons, and somehow the time slipped away until it was four o'clock, and the house was not yet decorated and the ice cream hadn't arrived from New York. "Nan, you and Patty fix the flowers, and I'll take the trap and fly down to the station and see if the ice cream isn't there," said Bumble, who was very warm and tired, but who kindly offered to do the most unpleasant errand.
"All right," said Nan, and Bumble drove off in a hurry. That morning the girls had gathered a quantity of wild flowers and vines for decorations, and Bumble said she had put them in water, but nobody knew where. So they hunted in every place they could think of, but to no avail. Bob helped them and they searched the kitchen, the cellar, and even the barn, but no flowers could they find. So, as it was nearly five o'clock they gave it up and ran up-stairs to dress for the party.
And then Patty discovered that the bath tub was filled with the missing flowers. At risk of being caught by the guests in their every-day attire, Nan and Patty flew down-stairs and hastily arranged the flowers as well as they could, and then returned to make their toilettes.
It was now after five, but fortunately no guests had yet arrived.
"Nobody will come before half-past five, anyway," said Nan, as they hastily scrambled into their frocks.
"They may," replied Patty, "there comes somebody now; oh, it's Bumble."
Bumble came in, panting and breathless.
"I had to bring the ice cream home with me," she said; "there was no one else to bring it from the station. Wasn't it lucky I went over?"
"Yes, indeed," said Patty, "and now, Bumble dear, rest yourself a little.Nan and I will receive the guests. Aunt Grace is still in the kitchen."
"Yes," said Bumble, "but the table isn't set yet. We ought to get out the plates and things. Eunice is frosting cakes, and she can't do it."
"Well, I can do it now," said Patty. "I'm all ready, if you'll just tie my sash. Nobody is here yet, so I may have a few minutes at least."
But when Patty reached the dining-room the scene was appalling. In the hurry, nobody had found time to clear away the luncheon dishes, and the extension table must be made longer and really there was an hour's work there for somebody.
Patty called Bob to help her, as everybody else was so busy, and the good-natured boy left what he was doing and came to his cousin's assistance.
It was six o'clock before everything was in readiness and the family gathered on the veranda to rest themselves and await their guests.
"Seems to me they're getting pretty fashionable," said Bob; "it's an hour after the time set, and nobody's here yet."
"Well, it's a warm day," said Aunt Grace, fanning herself, "and nobody likes to start out early in the afternoon." But after another half-hour passed and still nobody came, they all began to think it rather queer.
"Perhaps they've boycotted us," said Uncle Ted, "and don't mean to come at all."
"I should think the Perrys would be here by this time," said Nan. "I meant to speak to them about it yesterday, and ask them to be sure to come early, but I forgot it."
"Did we invite the Harlands?" said Bob.
"I can't think whether we did or not," said Bumble. "I know we were undecided about them. But we asked the Graysons, and here they come now."
"Well, I'm glad somebody's coming," said Nan; "but, no,—they aren't turning in, they're driving by!"
"Sure enough," said Bob; "mean old things,—if they couldn't come, they might at least have sent regrets."
"Here are the Stanton girls, anyway," said Patty, as two young ladies came walking towards them.
Elsie and Mildred Stanton came up to the group on the veranda with a slightly embarrassed air.
"Good-evening," said Mildred; "you look as if you were going to have a lawn-party."
"Why, we are," said Bumble, "if anybody comes to it. I'm glad you've arrived, anyway, Come in."
"But,—we weren't invited," said Elsie, a little stiffly. "We came over on an errand."
"Indeed you were invited," said Bumble, warmly. "Do you suppose I'd leave you out, my dearest chums? But really, didn't you get an invitation? How funny! They were sent out on Tuesday."
"No," said Elsie, "but if it was a mistake, and you meant to invite us, it's all right. But we didn't know it, you see, so we're not in party frocks. As nobody else is here yet, I think we'll run home and dress up a bit, and then come back again."
"All right," said Bumble, knowing her guests would feel more comfortable if suitably dressed,—and they lived near by. "Skip along, girls, and hurry back."
After they had gone it was nearly seven o'clock, and nobody else appeared. Great consternation was felt by all, and suddenly Patty said, "Who mailed those invitations?"
"Bumble did," said Bob.
"No, I didn't," said Bumble, "I thought you attended to it. Why, Bob, I asked you particularly to look after them."
"I didn't hear you," said Bob; "do you suppose—"
But Patty had already run into the house and returned with her hands full of the invitations to the party.
"Oh," groaned everybody, quite overcome by the calamity.
Nan was the first to recover herself.
"There's only one thing to do," she said; "we must go around and pick up as many guests as we can in a hurry. It won't do to let all this nice garden-party go to waste. Bob and I will take the runabout, and Bumble, you and Patty can take the trap, and we'll scour the country as far as possible."
In a few minutes the two turnouts dashed away in opposite directions, and all the near-by neighbors were bidden to come to the garden-party at once.
Much laughter and fun was caused by the sudden and peremptory invitations, which were, for the most part, gladly accepted.
When the guests finally arrived, the party was a grand success, though of much smaller proportions than was originally intended. The gayly-lighted veranda was a fine place for dancing and games, and supper, served in the tent, was very novel and attractive.
As Nan said, after the party was over, "It was just perfect, except that we couldn't invite the ones that lived at any distance."
But Uncle Ted said, "Never mind, we'll have another party, and invite them; and I'll see to mailing the invitations myself."
"Oh, ho," laughed Nan, "then we needn't even get ready for the party, for you'll never remember to post them."
At which Uncle Ted called her a saucy minx, and sent them all to bed.