"'Oh, merry-me, merry-me,'
Sang young Jeremy,
'Merry-me, Lovely Lou----'"

Presently Mr. Kean, seizing his daughter around the waist, began
dancing, and in a moment everybody was twirling to that lively tune,
bumping against each other and tumbling on the divans in an effort to
circle around the room. All the time. Mrs. Kean, standing on a chair in
the corner, was gently remonstrating and calling out:

"Now, Bobbie, you mustn't make so much noise. This isn't a mining camp."

Nobody heard her soft expostulations, and only the little lady herself
heard the sharp rap on the door and noticed a piece of paper shoved
under the crack. Rescuing it from under the feet of the dancers, and
seeing that it was addressed to "Miss Kean," she opened and read it.

"Oh, how very mortifying," she exclaimed. "Now, Bobbie, I knew you would
get these girls into some scrape. You are always so noisy. See here! Our
own Judy being reprimanded! You must make your father explain to the
President or Matron or whoever this Miss Blount is, that it was all his
fault."

"What in the world are you talking about, Julia Kean?" demanded Judy,
snatching the note from her mother and reading it rapidly. "Well, of all
the unexampled impudence!" she cried when she had finished. "Will you be
good enough to listen to this?

"'Miss Kean: You and your family are a little too noisy for the comfort
of the other tenants in this house. Those of us who wish to study and
rest cannot do so. This is not a dance hall nor a mining camp. Will you
kindly arrange to entertain more quietly? The singing is especially
obnoxious.

"'JUDITH BLOUNT.'"

Judy was in such a white heat of rage when she finished reading the
note, that her mother was obliged to quiet her by smoothing her forehead
and saying over and over:

"There, there, my darling, don't mind it so much. No doubt the young
person was quite right."

Mr. Kean was intensely amused over the letter. He read it to himself
twice; then laughed and slapped his knee, exclaiming:

"By Jove, Judy, my love, it takes a woman to write a note like that."

"A woman? A cat!" broke in Judy.

Mrs. Kean put her hand over her daughter's mouth and looked shocked.

"Oh, Judy, my dearest, you mustn't say such unladylike things," she
cried.

"It's just because she wasn't invited," continued Judy. "I wouldn't let
the girls ask her this time. She usually is invited and makes as much
racket as any of us."

"It wa