like," returned Marge, with
great dignity; "but the 'baby play' has come down through a good many
years. It is an old Easter custom that was brought over from England by
one of the early settlers at Washington."

"I--I didn't mean--I'm sorry--" began Royal, stammeringly; when--

"Royal! Royal Purcel!" called out a voice; and a little fellow scarcely
more than six or seven years old came running up the driveway, and made
a flying leap into the wagon.

"Do you belong to a circus?" cried Elsie.

"No; wish I did. I belong to Royal."

"Who is Royal?"

"Who is Royal?" repeated the child, making a cunning, impudent face at
her.

"He means me. My name is Royal,--Royal Purcel; and he," nodding towards
the child, "is my brother."

"Royal Purcel! _What_ a funny name! It sounds--"

"Don't, Elsie," remonstrated Marge.

"It sounds just like Royal Purple," giggled Elsie, regardless of her
sister's remonstrance.

Rhoda Davis, the cook, coming out just then with the butter-box, Royal
thrust it hastily into the back of the wagon, and without another word
or glance at the sisters, drove off at a headlong pace.

"Well, I never saw such a tempery boy as that in my life," said Elsie.
"A boy that can't take a joke I don't think is much of a boy."

"Them Purcels allers was pretty peppery, and I guess they're more'n
ever so now," said Rhoda.

"Why?" asked Marge.

"Why? Because they used to be the richest farmers about here. They owned
pretty nigh all Lime Ridge once. Now they hain't got nothin' but that
little Ridge farm. It's a stony little place, and how they manage to get
a livin' off of it beats me."

"How'd they happen to lose so much?"

"Oh, the boy's father took to spekerlatin', and then some banks they had
money in bust up."

"Well, he needn't fly up at everything because he isn't rich," said
Elsie. "That's regular cry-baby fashion. He's a royal purple cry-baby,
that's what he is, and I mean to call him that, see if I don't;" and
Elsie laughed in high glee as this mischievous idea struck her. And
while she and her sister were discussing Royal and his temper, Royal was
discussing that very temper with himself.

"To think of my being such a fool as to show mad before those girls. I'm
a regular sissy," was his final conclusion as he drove down the road.

The next morning, bright and early, he was up at the Lloyds' with two
dozen fine big eggs. "As handsome a lot of eggs as I ever see,"
commented Rhoda, as she too