enough
chairs had been brought in for all.

"I walked over with Mr. Wells and he was quite surprised to find I was
coming to the house," said Mrs. Wells, laughingly.

"I never said a word to Mr. Talmage or his brother," confided Mrs.
Talmage, smiling at the secret.

"Mr. Stevens knows I am at this council with Betty, but he hasn't the
faintest idea for what," admitted Mrs. Stevens.

And so it was that not one of the men who had formed the habit of
dropping in to help the Bobolinks could imagine what their wives were
doing with the Blue Birds.

If the inmates of the Winter Nest that night could have seen the
questioning faces of the boys and men when it was known that a meeting
of mothers was being held, they would have felt the balm of satisfaction
applied to wounded pride.

Mrs. Talmage showed the sample of paper and, after a discussion of merit
and price, a selection was made of an artistic grey paper to be printed
in blue--the colors of the Blue Birds.

"We must have envelopes to match, mother," said Ruth.

"I never thought of that, but it is so!" admitted Mrs. Talmage.

"I know the address of a firm where Mr. Wells has all of his
'made-to-order' envelopes made--we will get them to do it," suggested
Mrs. Wells.

"What a relief to hear that offer!" sighed Mrs. Talmage. "I was just
wondering where I could find anyone who would make them for us."

"It also goes to prove that many heads gathered to discuss Blue Bird
affairs are better than one, and I suggest that we meet at least once a
week," suggested Aunt Selina.

So it was then and there agreed that the mothers would come regularly to
hold a council in the Winter Nest with the Blue Birds.

"Just as soon as the envelopes come back we can begin to address from
mother's big book, can't we?" asked Norma.

"If there's only one book, how can all of this crowd read it at the same
time and then write down the names?" demanded Dot Starr.

"Why, we won't have to do that work," added Mrs. Wells. "There's a firm
in the city that addresses envelopes for a dollar a thousand."

"Another fine hint! I'm sure I'd rather pay my share than risk Dot's
ruining dozens of envelopes with ink," laughed Mrs. Starr, patting Dot
on the hand.

"We wouldn't want to write 'em in here, because the snow would freeze
our fingers so the ink would spatter all over," said Dot, ludicrously.

"Yes, I suppose these lovely covers would be speckled black by the time
the Blue Birds compl