ly boy in the family and I know I could help,
if they'd only trust me. It's being left out that hurts, Chicken Little.
But forget everything I've said. I didn't mean to blab this way. I
s'pose Mother's right--I can't even keep my own affairs to myself."
Sherm shut his lips together tightly.

Jane tactfully changed the subject.

"I suppose you'd have to know a lot to be an architect."

"Yes, right smart--I'd need a college education, and then I'd like to go
to Paris and study at the Beaux Arts."

"What's that?"

"Oh, it's a school for architects and artists. I don't know very much
about it myself. The New York architect who designed the new court house
at home told me I ought to go there, if I ever wanted to be a real
honest to goodness architect. I had a talk with him one day. He said if
I ever got ready to go, to write to him, and he would give me some
letters to people in Paris."

"My, wouldn't that be grand to study in Paris? I most wish I was a
boy--they can do such wonderful things."

* * * * *

The neighborhood gatherings began early. By half-past seven, hitching
posts and trees and fence were all in use for the teams. Frank was
pleased.

"If there is anything in numbers, this party is going to be a success.
Sure you have plenty to eat?"

Marian groaned. "Frank, I am dead sure we have all the food we can
possibly serve between now and midnight. I don't see how we are ever to
manage."

"Don't worry, I'll impress about a dozen of the young folks as
waiters--they will like nothing better. The boys each have one more pair
of hands than they know what to do with. Look at the Raddon boys over by
the fireplace. They have put their hands in their pockets, and taken
them out, and dropped them by their sides, and picked up every bit of
bric-a-brac on the mantel, and smoothed back their hair, and Heaven
knows what else, during the last ten minutes. Hands are an awful
responsibility! It will be a Godsend to them to give them something to
do."

Chicken Little came out, after helping with wraps and seating guests, in
a gale of merriment.

"Oh, Marian, do take a peep at Mrs. Brown. She has a purple skirt and a
blue polonaise and a red bow on her hair, and she's got her hair banged
in front and pulled back tight as can be behind."

"Hush, Jane, they're our guests."

"I know, and I didn't mean to be making fun--but Marian, she's a sight!
And Jake Schmidt's wife and si