se I have, now I think about it," replied Margaret. "It stands
to reason that there would be less chance for germs to hide."

"Do you suppose these old walls are in good enough condition to go
uncovered?" asked Roger, passing his hand over a suspicious bulge that
forced the paper out, and casting his eye at the ceiling which was
veined with hair cracks.

"Probably the walls will not be in the pink Of condition," returned
Mrs. Morton; "but, even so, color-washing will be better than papering."

"We can go over them and fill up the cracks," suggested Tom, "and we
can whitewash the ceilings."

"That's what I should advise," said Miss Merriam. "Put the walls and
ceilings in as good condition as you can, and then put on your wash.
Kalsomining is rather expensive, but there are plenty of color washes
now that any one can put on who can wield a whitewash brush."

"Me for the whitewash brush at an early date," Roger sang gayly. "What
do you suggest for these upstairs floors, Miss Merriam? Grandfather
thought they weren't bad enough to have new ones laid, but they do look
rather rocky, don't they?"

He cast a disparaging glance at the boards under his feet, and waited
for help.

"Were you planning to paint them?"

"Yes," Roger nodded.

"Then you ought to putty up the cracks first. That will make them
smooth enough. They're not really rough, you see. It's the spaces
between the planks that make them seem so."

"That's easily done. We thought we'd paint these old floors and stain
the new ones down stairs."

"I'd do that. Paint these floors tan or gray, if you want them to
confess frankly that they're painted floors, or the shade of some wood
if you want to pretend that they're hard wood floors."

James moved uneasily. Roger guessed the reason.

"What's the matter, old man? Treasury low?"

"It always is," answered James uncomfortably. "How are we going to
fill it?"

"That's what I've been thinking," Ethel Brown said meditatively. "It's
time we did something to earn something."

"Everybody I've sold cookies to all winter seems to have stopped eating
them," complained Ethel Brown. "I'm thinking of getting up a cooky
sale to relieve my financial distress."

"There's an idea," cried Tom. "Why can't we have a cooky sale--with a
few other things thrown in--and use the proceeds for the decoration and
furnishing of Rose House?"

"We've had so many entertainments; can we do anything different enough
fo