n my face; it's too sticky and
wet." But she rubbed valiantly until the spoonful was used and her face
glowed.

"Now paint, red paint--I don't dare use the kind you put on houses, for
that's too hard to get off; let's see--I guess red-beet juice will do."

She stooped to the cool, earthen floor, lifted the cover from a crock of
pickled beets, dipped the spoon into the juice and began to rub the
colored liquid upon her glowing cheeks.

"If I only had a looking-glass, then I could see just where to put it
on. But I don't dare to carry the juice up the steps, for if I spilled
some just after Aunt Maria has them scrubbed for Sunday she'd be cross."

She applied the red juice by guesswork, with the inevitable result that
her ears, chin, and nose were stained as deeply as her cheeks.

"Now the powder, then I'm through."

She tiptoed up to the kitchen again, took a handful of flour from the
bin and rubbed it upon her face.

"Ugh, um," she sputtered, as some of the flour flew into her eyes and
nostrils. "I guess that was too thick!" Then she knelt on a chair and
looked into the small mirror that hung in the kitchen. She exclaimed in
horror and disappointment at the vision that met her gaze.

"Why, I don't like that! I look awful! I'll rub off some of the flour. I
have blotches all over my face. Do all prima donnas look this way, I
wonder. But David knows, I guess. I'll ask him if I did it right."

She grabbed one end of the kitchen towel and disposed of some of the
superfluous flour, then, still doubtful of her appearance, opened the
door to the porch where the boy waited for her.

"Do I look----" she began, but David burst into hilarious laughter.

"Oh, oh," he held his sides and laughed. "Oh, your face----"

"Don't you laugh at me, David Eby! Don't you dare laugh!"

She was deeply hurt at his unseemly behavior, but the deluge was only
beginning! The sound of David's laughter and Phoebe's raised voice
reached the front room where the quilting party was in progress.

"Sounds like somebody on the back porch," said Aunt Maria. "Guess I
better go and see. With so many tramps around always abody can't be too
careful."

The sight that met Maria Metz's eyes as she opened the back door left
her speechless. Phoebe turned and the two looked at each other in
silence for a few long moments.

"Don't scold her," David said, sobered by the sudden appearance of the
woman and frightened for Phoebe--Aunt Maria could be stern,