he chest, an' sorter shake
it out on the bed."

"Who's goin' to wear it, ma?" The question came in anxious tones,
for the blue alpaca had been sent them in a bundle of old clothes,
and though it failed to fit either of the girls, the wearing of it
was a much coveted privilege.

"Well, now, I don't know," said Mrs. Wiggs, critically surveying the
children; "it won't button good on you, and swags in the back on
Australia."

"Lemme wear it, ma!"

"No, lemme!" came in excited tones.

Mrs. Wiggs had seen trouble before over the blue alpaca; she knew
what anguish her decision must bring to one or the other.

"It really looks best on Asia," she thought; "but if I let her wear
it Austry'll have a cryin' spell an' git to holdin' her breath, an'
that'll take up so much time." So she added aloud: "I'll tell you
what we'll do. Asia, you kin wear the skirt, an' Austry kin wear
the waist."

But when she had pinned the skirt over one little girl's red calico
dress, and buttoned the blue waist over the clean apron of the
other, she looked at them dubiously. "They do look kinder mixed,"
she admitted to herself, "but I reckon it don't matter, so long as
they 're both happy."

Just here Billy came in, with the veil in one hand and a bunch of
faded carnations in the other.

"Look, ma!" he exclaimed, holding up his trophy, "I swapped 'em with
Pete fer a top an' a agate. He got 'em outen a ash-barrel over on
the avenue."

"Well, now, ain't that nice?" said Mrs. Wiggs; "I'll jes' clip the
stems an' put 'em in a bottle of water, an' they'll pick up right
smart by the time we go. I wisht you had something to fix up in,
Billy," she added; "you look as seedy as a raspberry."

Billy did look rather shabby; his elbows were out, and two of the
holes in his pants were patched and two were not. Mrs. Wiggs was
rummaging in the table drawer.

"I wisht I could find somethin' of yer pa's that would do. Here's
his white gloves he wore that time he was pallbearer to ole Mr.
Bender. Seems to me they do wear white gloves to the theayter, but I
disremember."

"Naw! I ain't a-goin' to wear no gloves," said Billy, firmly.

Mrs. Wiggs continued her search. "Here's yer grandpa's watch-fob,
but I'm skeered fer you to wear it, you might lose it. It's a
family remnant--been handed down two generations. What about this
here red comforter? It would sorter spruce you up, an' keep you
warm, besides; you know you 've had a cold fer a week, an' yer pip