ce? You must never make a
statement unless you're sure."

"Oh, but I am sure," said Marjorie, very earnestly. "Ellen, our cook,
made them, and she's a very superior cook. I know she is, because my
mother says so. And, besides, I know these are good because I've had
some of them myself."

"You've proved your case," said the old gentleman. "But now I'll catch
you! I'll buy your whole stock of macaroons if----"

"If what, sir?" said Marjorie, breathlessly, for his suggestion meant a
large sale, indeed.

"If you can spell macaroons," was the unexpected reply.

"Oh!" Marjorie gave a little gasp of dismay, for she had never had the
word in her spelling lessons, and she didn't remember ever seeing it in
print.

"May I think a minute?" she asked.

"Yes," said Mr. Abercrombie, taking out his watch; "but just a minute,
no more."

This embarrassed Marjorie a little, but she was determined to win if
possible, so she set her wits to work.

It was confusing, for she was uncertain whether to say double c or
double r, or whether both those letters were single. Then, like a flash,
came to her mind the way her father had taught her to spell _macaroni_.
The words _might_ not be alike, but more likely they were, so before the
minute had elapsed, she said, bravely:

"M-a-c-a-r-double o-n-s."

"Good for you!" cried Mr. Abercrombie. "You're a smart little girl, and
a good speller. I'll take all the macaroons you have."

Greatly elated, Marjorie referred the sale to Miss Merington, and that
lady was very much pleased when Mr. Abercrombie gave her a good-sized
banknote, and declined to take any change.

"For the good of the cause," he said, waiving away the proffered change.

"And now," their eccentric customer went on, "I've just a little more
money to spend at this booth, for I've promised one or two other
friends to buy some of their wares. But, Miss Rosycheeks, I'll tell you
what I'll do."

He looked at Marjorie so teasingly that she felt sure he was going to
ask her to spell something else, and this time she feared she would
fail.

"I'll do this," proceeded Mr. Abercrombie: "I'll buy anything for sale
at this booth that our young friend, the paragon speller, can _not_
spell!"

Marjorie's eyes sparkled. She wasn't really a "paragon speller," and she
felt sure there must be something that was beyond her knowledge. But,
somehow, all the things seemed to have simple names. Any one could spell
mittens and muffs and mats.