"John Robert Charles, what did you have for breakfast?" and the refrain
would be, "Charcoal."

"What did you have for dinner?" "Charcoal."

"How do you keep so clean?" "Charcoal."

Early this autumn the boy had made a protest. Day after day he said it
over to himself until he thought he had sufficient courage.

"Mother, why don't you call me just Charles, as my father does?"

His mother's surprise almost withered him. "Because," when she had
found her breath, "John is after _my_ father, who was an excellent man,
and Robert was for the only brother I ever had, and Charles for your
grandfather Reed. If you grow up as good as any of them you'll have no
occasion to find fault with your name."

Yet boys at school called him Bob, and he really did enjoy it. He went
to a very nice, select school where there were only twenty boys.

He had made quite an acquaintance with the Dean girls. He could play
house, and they had such delightful books to read.

"And the party must be some time next week. Thursday, mother thought,
would be convenient. I should give the invitations out on Monday," Josie
said. "And, oh, try to coax Jim."

The cousins came. Hanny saw them on Sunday, and on Monday two little
girls went round with a pretty basket and left pale-green missives at
the houses of friends. There was one for Ben also.

"H-m-m," ejaculated Jim. "A baby party. Will they play with dolls?"

"Oh, Jim! it's going to be a real party with refreshments. Of course
there won't be dolls."

"Washington pie and round hearts."

The tears rushed to Hanny's eyes.

"Never mind about him," said Ben, "I'll go. I'll be your beau. And see
here, Hanny, it's polite to answer an invitation. Now you write yours
and I'll write mine, and I'll leave them at the door."

Hanny smiled and went up-stairs for her box of paper.

Jim gave a whistle and marched off; but when he saw the pretty Baltimore
cousin, he reconsidered, though he was afraid Lily Ludlow would laugh at
him when she heard of it.

Margaret dressed the little girl in her pretty blue cashmere, and she
felt very nice with her two brothers. Most of the children were ten and
twelve, but the two cousins were older. Bessie Ritter was quite used to
parties and took the lead, though the children were rather shy at first.

They played "Stage-coach," to begin with. When the driver, who stood in
the middle of the room, said, "Passengers change for Boston," every one
had to get up and run