e of cake is dry eating when all the rest have lemonade,
but I'd rather have that than nothing. There, that man is going to play
again--Faith is pulling out the stops of the organ. Doesn't he look
funny?"

She laughed aloud at a sudden ludicrous fancy, and her laugh was echoed
so close beside her that she nearly jumped out of her chair. Recovering
herself, she whirled around to find the strong-faced young pastor
looking down at her.

"What do you find so funny to laugh at, hid away here in this dark
corner?" he asked, in a cheery, hearty voice, as he drew up an old stool
and sat down beside her.

And, forgetting her fright in the friendly glance and tone of this new
preacher, Peace giggled out, "I was just thinking s'posing we were all
grasshoppers, how funny we'd look hopping around here instead of
walking. We'd have to shake feet instead of hands, and if we wanted to
go across the room all we'd have to do would be to take a big jump."

For a fraction of a second the minister was dumb with amazement at the
unexpected answer; then he threw back his head and laughed uproariously,
as he gasped, "What ever put such a thought in that little noddle?"

"That man with the big fiddle," was the prompt reply. "Doesn't he look
like a grasshopper with that long-tailed coat and all that shirt front?
If he just had feelers on his head, he'd be perfect. Don't you think
so?"

Again the young man laughed, for Peace's picture was not overdrawn--the
tall, angular cellist in evening dress certainly did resemble a
grasshopper. But, of course, it would never do for him to say so, and he
sought to turn this unusual conversation by inquiring, "Aren't you one
of the Greenfield girls? You look amazingly like two or three who have
been introduced to me this evening. Isn't the organist a sister of
yours?"

"Yes, that's Faith."

"And the blue-eyed one just coming in the door?"

"That's Hope."

"And there is a third one here somewhere, is there not?"

"Yes, Cherry. Her real name is Charity, but that is such a long name for
a little girl that we call her Cherry."

He smiled at the diminutive maiden with her grown-up air, and said
musingly, "Faith, Hope and Charity. Then you must be Mercy."

"Oh, mercy, no!" was the horrified exclamation. "That would be worse
than ever! I am Peace. Faith says I ought to have been called 'War and
Tribulation'--it would have been more 'propriate; but I am not to blame
for my name, if it doesn't fit. I w