casion
in the line of cooked food; there were two gallon pots of beans in the
oven cooking slowly; and every lady, as she arrived, handed to Janice
some parcel or package containing cooked food for the supper.

The girl was busy looking after these donations when once the members of
the sewing circle began to arrive; and Aunt 'Mira's pantry had never
before been so stacked with food. Marty stole in to gaze at the goodies,
and whispered:

"Hi tunket! Just you go away for half an hour, Janice, and lemme be
here. I could do something to that tuck right now."

"And so soon after dinner?" cried his cousin. "I wonder if boys _are_
hollow all the way down to their heels, as they say they are?"

"It ain't that," grinned Marty. "But a feller runs so many chances in
this world of going hungry, that he ought ter fill up while he can. You
just turn your back for a while and I'll show you, Janice."

But his cousin turned the key in the pantry door and slipped it into her
pocket for safety. "We'll have no larks like _that_, Master Marty," she
declared.

Mrs. Scattergood and 'Rill were among the first to arrive; and then came
Mrs. Middler, the minister's wife. Mrs. Beasely was there, and Walky
Dexter's wife, and the druggist's sister, who kept house for him; and
Mrs. Poole, the doctor's wife; and Mrs. Marvin Petrie, who had married
children living in Boston and always spent her winters with them, and
had just come back to Poketown again for the season.

Many of the ladies of Poketown never thought of making up their spring
frocks, or having Mrs. Link, the milliner, trim their Easter bonnets,
until Mrs. Marvin Petrie came from Boston. She was supposed to bring
with her the newest ideas for female apparel, and her taste and advice
was sought on all sides when the ladies sat down to their sewing in the
big sitting-room of the old Day house.

Mrs. Marvin Petrie, however, was one of those persons who seem never to
absorb any helpful ideas. Her forte was mostly criticism. She could see
the faults of her home town, and her home people, in comparison with the
Hub; but she had never, thus far, led in any benefit to Poketown.

"You can't none of you understand how glad I am to git to my daughter
Mabel's in the winter; and then how glad I am to shake the mud of
Boston off my gaiters when it comes spring," declared the traveled lady,
who had a shrill voice of great "carrying" quality. When Mrs. Marvin
Petrie was talking there was little