ggy, in tones of great surprise. "A member of the congregation,
and they are signed 'Pearl Proctor'! Who in the world can it be?"

Several people gathered about.

"How very funny! One of the congregation? Who do you suppose it is? I
wish I had time to read them," said Mrs. Pearson. "They are certainly a
novelty at a fair. Twenty-five cents she values them at? The lady is
modest. But take care, girls," she added, in a warning whisper,
approaching two young women who were laughing immoderately over one of
Pearl Proctor's productions, "you must be careful! No one knows who
wrote them, and the person may be in the room watching us at this very
minute. It will never do to hurt her feelings."

"Oh, but, Mrs. Pearson, if you could only read this! It is the funniest
thing I ever read, and the best part of it is, it isn't meant to be at
all."

"Never mind, don't laugh. I beg of you! How did they get here, Peggy?"

"A messenger-boy brought them," returned Peggy promptly, feeling very
glad that Millicent was not here to see the effect they produced. She
was almost sorry that she had urged her to send them. After all it
seemed a shame to make fun of the poor dear.

"Well, do be careful, girls," said Mrs. Pearson, as she moved away.

An hour or so later Millicent herself walked into the rooms. She looked
very lovely, for her beautiful golden hair had twisted into little curls
and waves, the morning being somewhat damp, and there was an unusual
sparkle in her dreamy blue eyes. It was very exciting to have one's
poems actually for sale.

The first thing that met her gaze was a large sign placed above a small
table. Upon the table lay the array of booklets, while the sign read
thus:

"A NOVELTY! POEMS BY PEARL PROCTOR.

A MEMBER of THE CONGREGATION.

_Twenty-five Cents Each._"

She did not have sufficient courage to walk boldly up with the air of a
stranger and inspect the wares thus offered for sale, so she turned
aside and began to talk to some of her friends, asking what she could do
to help.

"My dear," said Elsie Pearson, flying up to her, and speaking in a
whisper, "I am so glad you have come! I must tell you the greatest joke
in the world. Somebody has sent a lot of poems to the fair to sell! Did
you ever hear of anything so delicious? Mamma says we ought not to
laugh, for the person who wrote them may be in the room, but it is too
awfully funny not to laugh the least bit, and I know you are safe."

Millicent s