hairpins."

Pete grinned sheepishly, but straightened his cravat and pulled his
whiskers in a way men have when complimented by the fair sex.

"How's your business?" asked Major Fitch.

"Which business?" asked Judith. "I've got so many you'll have to say
which one. But all of them are coming on pretty well. I must be going.
So long!" She was up and away like a blue flash.

"Now ain't she likely?" quavered old Judge Middleton. "There ain't
many pretty gals like her'd stop an' gossip with a bilin' of ol'
has-beens like us."

"Yes, that's the truth," said Colonel Crutcher. "Did you see Bob
Bucknor's oldest girl going by in her father's car while Miss Judy was
cheering us up? She had a young blood in with her--that young Harbison
from Louisville. He nearly fell out of the car, rubbering at Miss
Judy. That Bucknor miss hardly more than glanced this way, but she was
showing the whites of her eyes in that glance. My granddaughter,
Betty, was telling me only last night that the only reason Judy Buck
wasn't asked to join their dancing club was that the Bucknor gals got
their backs up about asking her and kind of talked them down--calling
Judy common and poor white trash and such like. Betty says the girls
all like her better than they do the Bucknors, but you know how it is
with the folks from Buck Hill--they just naturally take the lead in
social matters and nobody ever has crossed them. I wish I had a house
of my own. I tell you I'd give that Judy Buck a comin' out party that
would make your hair curl," declared the Colonel.

"Well, I've got a house, but it wouldn't be big enough to ask all the
people I'd want to have to Miss Judy's ball," spoke up Major Fitch.

"By golly, I got a idee!" exclaimed Pete Barnes, letting his chair
that had been tilted against the wall drop on all four legs and
bringing his feet, which had been draped over the railing, to the
floor at the same time with a resounding stamp. "I got an idee for
sure."

"Well?" asked Major Fitch.

"Let's all of us ol' ones get together an' hire the skating rink an'
give Miss Judy Buck a party that this county won't ever forget."

The other chairs came down on all fours and the veterans of the Rye
House porch drew together in solemn conclave. Old tongues clicked and
old beards wagged, while Pete Barnes' idea took constructive shape.

"We'll ask all the neighborhood and even some out of the neighborhood.
We'll have the band up from Louisville and a caterer