t a little girl so that I might
glory in this office and work," sighed Mrs. Catlin, coming back to the
grown-ups.

"You don't have to be 'little,' Therese," laughed Mrs. Talmage. "You are
one of this juvenile club as surely as if you were but ten. Why, you
couldn't pass the place without coming in to ask for news."

"To tell the truth, I was going to the village, but I heard the happy
shouts away out on the road and so I just wanted to know the cause,"
confessed Mrs. Catlin, smiling.

"I hope I may live a few years longer to see the results of this work,"
sighed Aunt Selina.

"You will, Flutey, you will!" cried Dot, enthusiastically. "What Uncle
Ben told you was really truly true!"

"And just think, Mrs. Catlin, Flutey is going to write a long serious
story for our magazine all about the war that she was in!" cried Betty
Stevens.

The grown-ups smiled at Betty's idea of a "serial" story, but Mrs.
Catlin looked surprised.

"Why, I never knew you were from the South?"

"I'm not, but I was visiting there during an exciting time, and Ben
thinks my experience will make a readable story," replied Aunt Selina.

Mrs. Catlin looked at the aged lady with interest and said how much she
would like to hear the tale. Suddenly, however, she slapped her gloved
hands together and spoke.

"Now, what reason is there that I should not have some pages in this
magazine?" she asked.

"Show us any good reason for taking our space and you may have it,"
teased Mrs. Talmage.

"Then put me down for another serial. I have a collection of short
stories that Mr. Catlin wrote of his adventures in Alaska. It does not
seem much like an adventure to go to Alaska nowadays, but forty years
ago it was as if one were leaving this hemisphere for the unknown. Some
of his tales are intensely interesting," said Mrs. Catlin.

"Why, friends, we are getting so many notable articles and writers
together that we will soon have to raise the subscription price,"
laughed Mr. Talmage.

"That reminds me that we never thought of a charge. We ought to decide
what subscription price we wish to ask," said Uncle Ben.

"Has anyone thought of that?" asked Mrs. Talmage, looking about at Blue
Birds and Bobolinks.

Heads were shaken and Ned asked, "How can we tell how much to charge
until we know what the magazine will cost?"

"I can help you figure that out, I think," offered Uncle Ben, sitting
down at the table and taking paper and pencil from the drawer.