o be seen cutting circles
out of old postcards, covering them with silks, and sewing them
together. Mother teased them sometimes about their 'Pincushion Factory,'
but she was glad to see them happy and busy, especially as spring was
coming in 'like a lion,' with day after day of gales and storms, which
made walks impossible. Jane was rather inquisitive about their doings,
and a little hurt at not knowing their secret. She was accustomed to be
told all about their 'thinking,' and to have a share in all the
wonderful plans that Ada invented and May followed; but neither of the
sisters would explain why so many pocket pincushions were wanted all at
once. 'It isn't another bazaar,' said Jane, to herself, 'or Mistress
would have told me. It's just some new fad Miss Ada's got hold of. I
dare say it's all right. They are as good as gold, those two, and the
pincushions can mean no harm.'

'Three dozen exactly,' said Ada, one bright Saturday morning, 'and every
colour that any one could want. We shall make a lot of money! We must
begin selling them to-day, May.'

'Must we?' said May, rather dubiously. Somehow that part of the business
did not quite please her. She had been glad that the stock took so long
to accumulate, and that the business of selling did not begin at once.

'Yes, indeed. We're going to the baker's for Mother this morning. She
said we might, because Jane's too busy. So we will take some out with
us. Aunt Ellen got sixpence each for hers at the bazaar.'

'But can we?' said May. 'Let's ask threepence. They are very small, you
know. How many will your pocket hold, Ada?'

Two little girls left Grove Villa an hour later. They were neatly
dressed in dark blue, with a bright red ribbon round their sailor-hats,
and there was a spot of bright colour on each of the four cheeks,
telling of the excitement in the little minds. Ada was eager to begin,
but May almost hoped that no likely buyers would be met with.

'Shall we ask the baker?' she whispered, as they drew near his shop.

'No, I don't think so,' said Ada, uncertainly. 'I don't quite know, but
I don't believe that a baker wants pocket pincushions. I would rather
ask some one who doesn't know us. Gentlemen are best because they have
waistcoat pockets to slip them into.'

[Illustration: "'Please, sir, will you--would you buy a pincushion?'"]

But there are not many gentlemen to be seen in a London suburb in the
morning on Saturday, or any other week-day, and