ching for, not only the khaki skirt, but the little
Norfolk jacket which completed the outfit. Thanks to Joyce's orderly
habits they had been packed away clean and whole, and needed only the
magic touch of a hot iron to make them presentable.

There was something else in the box which Mary pounced upon and carried
down the ladder. It was a bag containing odds and ends of zephyrs and
yarns, left from various afghans and pieces of fancy work. Opened under
the sitting-room lamp it disclosed, among other things, several skeins
of wool as red as the flash of a cardinal's wing. "Enough to make a
whole Tam-O'-Shanter!" exclaimed Mary jubilantly, "and a fluffy pompon
on top! I can have it ready by day after to-morrow. I've been wondering
what I could wear on my head. I simply can't keep a hat on when I ride
fast! Here, Norman, be a dear duck of a brother and hold this skein
while I wind, won't you?"

Norman made a wry face and held out his arms with pretended
unwillingness, but she slipped the skein over his hands, saying, "Item
for Uncle Jerry's Column. 'A young gentleman should always spring nimbly
to the service of a lady, and offer his assistance with alacrity.'"

"Say," he interrupted in the tone of one having a real grievance.
"You've got to quit making a catspaw of me when you want to teach Pink
Upham manners. You know well enough that I always pick up your
handkerchief and stand until mamma is seated, and things like that, so
you needn't hint about 'em to me when he's here. You're just trying to
slap at Pink over my shoulders."

"Oh, you don't mind a little thing like that," laughed Mary. "It's for
the good of your country, my boy. I'm just trying to polish up one of
the pillars of the new state that you and mamma and Jack are so
interested in. Besides, Pink is so quick to take a hint that it's really
interesting to see how much a few suggestions can accomplish."

"Humph! You're singing a different tune from what you did at first. You
thought he was so tiresome and his laugh so awful and that he had such
dreadful taste--"

"I still think so," answered Mary, "but I don't notice his wild laugh so
much now that I am used to it, and he has many traits which make him
very companionable. Besides, I am sorry for him. He'd have been very
different if he'd had _your_ opportunities, for instance."

"Mary is right," agreed Mrs. Ware, smiling at Norman's grimace. "I think
it would be a good thing to ask him to stop when you