beyond her face.

When the others were ready, there was nothing fine left for me, so I had
to take a white petticoat, and a dressing sacque, and a big
old-fashioned Leghorn hat that Mother had worn when she was young. To
decorate myself a little, I carried a beautifully carved _tine_ in one
hand and a red parasol in the other. We all wore masks, of course,--big
pasteboard masks, which came away down over our chins, with enormous
noses and highly colored red cheeks.

Well, off we went and soon stood at the foot of our hill in a most
daring mood, ready for all sorts of pranks.

I don't know who proposed that we should go first to Mrs. Berg's, but we
all chimed in at once. We crept softly up to her door-step.

Unluckily for us, as it happened, Mrs. Berg has a great iron weight on
her street door,--so that it will shut of itself, you know. What the
matter was, I can't imagine, but as soon as we had given one knock at
the door, down fell that iron weight to the floor with a thundering
crash. We were so frightened that we were on the point of running away
when Mrs. Berg and her husband came bustling out to the door with a
lighted lamp.

"No, thanks," said Mrs. Berg, as soon as she caught sight of us. "I
don't want anything to do with such jugglery as this! Out with you, and
that quickly!"

"Oh, no, little Marie," said her husband. "You ought to ask the little
young ladies in. They are not street children, don't you see?" Mina's
magnificent clothes evidently made an impression on him.

Mrs. Berg mumbled something about its being all the same to her what
sort of people we were, but Mr. Berg had already opened the door and
respectfully asked us to walk in.

It was as hot as a bake-oven in the sitting-room, and so stuffy and
thick with tobacco smoke that I thought I should smother behind my mask.
Mr. Berg bowed and bowed and set out three chairs for us in the middle
of the room. Now we had planned at home that we would use only P-speech
while mumming, for then no one would know us.

"May I ask where these three elegant ladies come from?" asked Mr. Berg.

Massa undertook to answer, but she was never very clever at P-speech and
she got all mixed up:

"From-prom. Fan-tan-_pan_--pi-ta--sa-si p-p-p----" she stammered, in a
hopeless tangle, while Mina and I were ready to burst with laughter.

"Bless us! These must be foreigners from some very distant land,--they
speak such a curious language. You must treat them with som