of whalebones, and put them under the sheet in his
sister's bed.

There will be a special and _very_ private meeting of the E. C.
in some _very_ secret place, to decide whether we will let the
boys be honorary members or not. If they are elected honorary
members, we will turn them out any time that they don't behave
themselves very well indeed.

* * * * * * * *
* FAME. *
* * * * * * * *

THE END--FINIS.

The tail-piece was Cricket's ambitious flight of fancy. She drew a long
breath and sat down, amid vigorous applause.

"That's very creditable, my little authorlings," said auntie,
encouragingly. "Cricket, you did more than your share, I think, if you
copied all that, and wrote a story and a poem beside."

"I had them all thought before, auntie. I made up the poetry the day I
was caught on the mud-flat. I love to think out stories."

"Oh-h!" groaned Edna. "How any one can think out stories just for fun, I
_don't_ see. I'd almost rather fight skeeters. Mine's the stupidest
story that ever was, but I don't believe I slept a wink for three
nights, while I was making it up. You don't catch me writing any
stories, girls, when I am editor."

"I am afraid you weren't intended for an author, my dear," said her
mother, laughing.

"Somebody must _read_ the stories," said Edna, defensively.

CHAPTER XII.

THE HAIRS OF HIS HEAD.

The Maxwell family were coming home from church along the sandy, sunny
road. Eunice and Edna, arm in arm, were ahead, laughing and talking over
some profound secret. Will and Archie mimicked them behind, while
grandmamma and Auntie Jean, under a generous black sun-umbrella,
strolled slowly along some distance in the rear. Cricket, in the misery
of a dainty organdie, which she _must_ keep clean for another Sunday,
and with the unhappy consciousness of her Sunday hat of wide, white
Leghorn, which, with its weight of pink roses, flopped uncomfortably
about her ears, walked along by herself, in an unusually meditative
frame of mind. She refused, with dignity, the boys' proposal to walk
with them, and told the girls it was too hot to go three abreast.

Presently, down a cross street, she spied a familiar figure, tall and
bent, with a head of bristling hair, and a high silk hat,--it was Billy,
and she instantly ran to meet him. Billy could never be