gh with breakfast and certain childless and highly efficient
ladies were already taking their front and side hair out of curl papers.

At eight o'clock sharp the school bell summoned the children. Then a
little later the church bell summoned the veterans. And by nine the
procession was marching down Maple Street, flags waving, band playing
and every face aglow.

First came the little tots all in white, the boy babies bearing little
flags and the girl babies little baskets of flowers, with little
Eleanor Williams carrying in her tiny hands a silken banner on which
Bessie Williams, her mother, had beautifully embroidered a dove and the
lovely word, "Peace."

Then came the older children, a whole corps it seemed of Red Cross
nurses, followed by a regiment of merry sailor boys. There were
cowboys and Boy Scouts, boys in overalls and brownies. There were
girls in liberty caps, crinolines and sunbonnets.

So grade after grade Green Valley's children came, a proud and happy
escort for the men in blue who followed. Nanny Ainslee's father led
the veterans, sitting his horse right gallantly. Nanny and her father
were both riding and so was Doc Philipps.

There were plenty of people on horseback but most of the town marched,
even The Ladies Aid Society, every member wearing her badge and new hat
with conscious pride and turning her head continually to look at the
children, as the head of the procession turned corners. The young
married women with babies rode in buggies, from every one of whose
bulging sides flags drooped and fat baby legs and picnic baskets
protruded.

Everything went smoothly, joyously along, though a few incidents in
various parts of the procession caused smiles, gusts of laughter and
even alarm.

Jimmy Rand had a few anxious moments when the four fat puppies he
thought he had shut safely into the barn came yelping and tumbling
joyously into the very heart of the marching crowds.

Jim Tumley was down on the day's programme for several numbers. But as
the line swung around the hotel and the spring winds stained with the
odors of liquor swept temptingly over him he half started to step out
of line. But Frank Burton guessed his trouble and ordered Martin's
clerk, Eddie, to bring the little chap an extra large and fine soda
instead.

Mrs. Hen Tomlins upset things by ordering Hen back home to change his
shirt. It seems that Hen had deliberately put on a shirt with a soft
collar and in the excite