er curiosity at
once aroused. "Do all foreigners have whiskers? What makes whiskers
grow, anyway? Daddy doesn't have whiskers. Why do other folks?"

"Mother doesn't have whiskers, either," said Margy gravely.

"Say! Why?" repeated Violet insistently.

"Daddy shaves every morning. That is why he doesn't have whiskers," said
Rose, trying to pacify the inquisitive Violet.

"Well, does mother shave, too?" immediately demanded Vi. "I never saw
her brush. But I've played with daddy's. I painted the front steps with
it."

"And you got punished for it, you know," said Russ, grinning at her.
"But we were not talking about whiskers--nor shaving brushes."

"Yes we were," said the determined Vi. "I was asking about them."

"Is that man father is going to see an _awful_ foreigner, Russ?" Rose
wanted to know.

"I guess not. Father says he's a nice man. He has met him, he says. But
his name--oh, it's awful!"

"What _is_ his name?" asked Vi instantly.

If there was a possible chance of crowding in a question, Vi had it on
the tip of her tongue to crowd in. This was an hour after the "thunder
stroke" had caused such damage to the old house, and Vi was quite her
inquisitive little self again.

"His name----" said Russ.

Then he stopped and began to search his pockets. The others waited, but
Violet was not content to wait in silence.

"What's the matter, Russ? Do you itch?"

"No, I don't itch," said the boy, with some irritation.

"Well, you act so," said Vi. "What are you doing then, if you're not
itching?"

"She means scratching!" exclaimed Rose, but she stared at Russ, too, in
some curiosity.

"Oh! I know!" cried Laddie. "It's a riddle."

"What's a riddle?" asked his twin sister eagerly.

"What Russ is doing," said the little boy. "I know that riddle, but I
can't just think how it goes. Let's see: 'I went out to the woodpile and
got it; when I got into the house I couldn't find it. What was it?'" and
Laddie clapped his hands delightedly to think that he had asked a real
riddle.

"Oh, I know! I know!" shouted Margy eagerly.

"You do?" asked Laddie. "What is it, then?"

"My Black Dinah dolly that I lost somewhere and we never could find."

"That isn't the whole of that riddle, Laddie," said Russ. "You ought to
say: 'And I had it in my hand all the time.' Then you ask 'What was
it?'"

"Well, then," said Laddie, rather disappointed to think he had made a
mistake in the riddle after all. "What _was_ it, Russ?