,
if it were big and cumbersome, "up-stairs, out of the way!" This had
gone on until the banquet hall was one conglomerate mass of mixed
chattels from the Jersey shop, Kling's old stock being stowed in some
other part of the building. Then began the picking out. First the
doubtful, but rich in color, tapestries, then the rugs--some fairly
good ones--stuffs, old and new, and every available rag which would
hold together were spread over the four walls and the front windows. The
heavier and more decorative pieces of furniture came next--among them
a huge wooden altar which had never been put together and which was now
backed close against the tapestries and hanging rugs in the centre of
the long wall. Two Venetian wedding-chests, low enough to sit upon, were
next placed in position, and between them three Spanish armchairs in
faded velvet and one in crinkly leather, held together by big Moorish
nails of brass. Above these chests and chairs were hung gilt brackets
holding church candles, Spanish mirrors so placed that the shortest
woman in the party could see her face, and big Italian disks of dull
metal. The walls were wonderful in their rich simplicity, and so was the
disposition of the furniture, Felix's skilful eye having preserved
the architectural proportions in both the selection and placing of the
several articles.

More wonderful than all else, however, was the great gold throne at the
end of the room, on which Masie was to sit and receive her guests and
which was none other than the big cardinal's chair, incrusted with
mouldy gilt, that had first inspired her with the idea of the party.
This was hoisted up bodily and placed on an auctioneer's platform which
Mike had found tilted back against the wall in the cellar. To hide its
dirt and cracks, rugs were laid, pieced out by a green drugget which
extended half across the floor, now swept of everything except two
refreshment tables.

Next came the ceiling. What Felix did to that ceiling, or rather what
that ceiling did for Felix, and how it looked when he was through with
it is to this very day a topic of discussion among the now scattered
inhabitants of "The Avenue." Masie knew, and so did deaf Auntie
Gossburger, who often spent the day with the child. She, with Masie, had
been put in charge of the china and glass department, and when the
old woman had pulled up from the depths of a barrel first one red cup
without a handle and then a dozen or more, and had asked