ce, you have no imagination," said Judy.

"One day you tell me I have no sense of humor, and another that I have
no imagination. You'll be telling me I have no brains next."

"Here, eat this and stop quarreling," interrupted Molly, thrusting a
plate of fudge before them. "When in doubt, eat fudge and wisdom will
come."

Judy ate her fudge in silence. Then suddenly she cried exultantly.

"Eureka! Wisdom hath come, yea even to the humble in spirit. Heaven hath
enlightened me. I know what we'll wear, girls."

"What?" they demanded, having racked their brains in vain to think of
something both warm and picturesque.

"We'll go," continued Judy impressively, "as three Russian princesses."

"What in?"

"Leave that to me. You just do as I tell you. Nance, skate down to the
village and buy a big roll of cotton batting. Make them wrap it up well,
so as not to offer suggestions to others."

"What must I do?" asked Molly.

"You must turn up the hems of skirts. Take your old last winter's brown
one, and Nance's old green one, and--and my velvet one----"

"Your best skirt!" exclaimed Nance aghast.

"Yes, why not? We only live once," replied the reckless Judy. "Turn up
the hems all around and baste them. They should reach just to the
shoetops."

That afternoon they hurriedly sewed bands of cotton batting around the
bottoms of their skirts, bordered their jackets with it, made cuffs and
muffs and high turbans. Then Judy dotted the cotton with shoe blacking
and it became a realistic imitation of royal ermine. Each girl wore a
band of brilliant ribbon across the front of her coat with a gilt
pasteboard star pinned to it.

"I suppose this might be taken for the Order of the Star and Garter,"
observed Judy. "At any rate, we are royal princesses of the illustrious
house of Russia, the Princesses Molitzka, Nanitska and Judiekeanovitch.
Those are Russian enough, aren't they?"

Never will Molly forget the fun of that glorious evening, nor the
beautiful picture of the meadows and fields dazzling white in the
moonlight. While the "workers" of the four classes lit the fires and
lanterns, the "drones" circled about on the ice singing college songs.
From over at Exmoor came a crowd of youths who had skated the ten miles
up-hill and down-dale to see the carnival. Sleighing parties from nearby
estates drove over with rough-shod teams to draw the sleighs, and all
Wellington turned out to see the sights.

"I didn't believe there cou