thing," said Archie, hacking away.
"First the tin can, then the floor. Come out here, old fellow." But he
was evidently frightened away by the noise, and could not be induced to
come up.

"Bring a saucer of milk, Edna," said Mrs. Somers. "Stand it at one side,
and then we will all go away and he will soon come up." So the milk was
brought, and as it was supper-time, they all went down and left George
W. to his own devices. Cricket was much disposed to stay and make sure
that he came up, but she was finally persuaded to come down with the
rest.

"Isn't it funny how his voice came from all over?" she said, at the
supper-table. "Probably he was right there under the trunkroom floor all
the time. He was a regular philanthropist."

"A regular what?" asked grandma and Auntie Jean, together.

"A philanthropist. Don't you know? a man who--who talks where he isn't?"

"A _ventriloquist_!" said Will. "That's what you mean."

"Do I? Auntie, what is a philanthropist, then?"

"A philanthropist is one who loves man, dear, and who--"

"Then when a girl's engaged, is she a philanthropist?" broke in Cricket,
with her glass of milk half raised. The others all laughed.

"She is, very often," said grandma.

"I know the man she is engaged to is called her _finance_, but I never
knew she was called a philanthropist," went on Cricket, thoughtfully.

There was another shout.

"_Fiance_, dear," said auntie, as soon as she could speak, "and the girl
isn't often _called_ a philanthropist, though she often is one."

"Dear me," sighed Cricket. "Words are very puzzling. They seem to be
made to say what you don't think."

"Oftentimes, my little Talleyrand," said grandma.

After supper, Cricket ran up to see if George W. had made his appearance
yet. A few moments later, the household, assembled on the front piazza,
was startled by a crash and a scream in Cricket's voice. With one
accord, everybody rushed up-stairs. The sounds seemed to come from
Eunice's room. As they opened the door, a cloud of dust poured out, from
a mass of plaster that lay on the floor, while from a hole in the
ceiling a length of black-stockinged leg kicked wildly. Above, a pair of
fists beat a tattoo on the floor, while Cricket called, loudly:

"For goodness' sake, somebody come and pull me up; I'm breaking my other
leg off."

Will sprang for the garret stairs, stumbling headlong, at the top, over
George W., who took the opportunity to spring over his head, a