course, it's just
as much theirs as ours."

"Yes, of course," assented Marjorie; "I'm only just sort of imagining,
you know."

"Let me help you imagine. Midget," said her father. "How would you like
to imagine a whole May time that was all playtime?"

"For all of us?" rejoined Marjorie, her eyes dancing. "Oh, that would be
a lovely imagination! It would be like an Ourday all the time! And by the
way, Father, you owe us an extra Ourday. You know we skipped one when you
and Mother were down South, and it's time for another anyway. Shall we
have two together?"

"Two together!" cried King; "what fun that would be! We could go off on a
trip or something."

"Where could we stay all night?" asked Kitty, who was the practical one.

"Oh, trips always have places to stay all night," declared King; "let's
do it, Father. What do you say?"

"I don't get a chance to say much of anything, among all you
chatter-boxes. Rosy Posy, what do you say?"

But the littlest Maynard was so nearly asleep that she had no voice in
the matter under consideration, and at her father's suggestion, Nurse
Nannie came and took her away to bed.

"Now," said Mr. Maynard, "what's all this about Ourday? And two of them
together! When do you think I'm going to get my business done?"

"Well, but, Father, you owe them to us," said Marjorie, patting his cheek
in her wheedlesome way. "And you're not the kind of a business man who
doesn't pay his debts, are you?"

"I hope not; that would be a terrible state of affairs! And so I owe you
two Ourdays, do I?"

"Yes, one for April, and one for May."

It was the custom in the Maynard household to have an Ourday each month.
On these occasions both Mr. and Mrs. Maynard devoted themselves all day
long to the entertainment of the four children, and the four took turns
in deciding what the nature of the entertainment should be. Much of the
previous month their parents had been away, and the children looked
forward to the celebration of the belated Ourday in connection with the
one that belonged to the month of May.

"Before we discuss the question further," said Mr. Maynard, "I must tell
you of something I did to-day. I adopted a new pet."

"Oh, Father, what is it--a dog?" cried Marjorie.

"No, it isn't a dog; guess again."

"A cat!" Kitty guessed, while King said, "A goat?"

"Wrong, all of you," said Mr. Maynard; "now see if you can't guess it by
asking twenty questions."

"All right," said Marjorie,