e me buy, though they say it is at a
reduced price."

The restaurant was given up very soon. The president said that people had
left the sea-side for the city, and they could hardly expect enough home
trade to make it pay.

Pip thought he could make his table pay if he had some flowers to set it
off. But that was not all; he was envious of others' success. The fair had
been characterized by the usual amount of "human nature" displayed on such
occasions, and Pip now exhibited his peculiarities. For ten cents he
bought a few white flowers at a hot-house, and then thought he would get
ahead of the boys and be at the barn at an early hour, making sure for
himself any possible customers.

"To give all an equal chance," declared the president, "to make it the
same for those who get up early and those who lie abed, the barn will be
open at nine o'clock, except on holidays, when we will accommodate the
public at an earlier hour."

Pip thought he would be on hand by eight one morning. He would then be
sure to catch any "nail custom," as that was a class apt to be astir
early, hunting up currency before other people had a chance at it. But the
weather had stiffened since the storm. It was too cold to be agreeable,
and even the nail-customers, usually so early at the barn, were now at
home hugging the kitchen stove. Pip stood alone at the grand flower table.
His blossoms lay unsought upon the table.

"Pip! Pip!"

It was the governor down in the yard.

"We are going to see them skate on the pond back of the mill. Come, go!"

Pip could hardly be coming and going at the same time, but he left his
table and left his flowers. That day, the cold increased steadily.

"It is nippin' cold," said Aunt Stanshy to a neighbor, and what did Jack
Frost do but take out his nippers and clap them on Pip's flowers! The next
morning, Pip found a little heap of frozen petals on the "flower-table."
He could no more make them into flowers than if they had been petals of
snow!

That day, "owing to the weather," the "Fair" was closed. The boys divided
the little heap of cash and the large heap of nails, and each knight took
his share. The club now ceased to have an active existence. It became like
any other stick that is laid aside and set up in the corner. It seemed as
if the knights had forgotten that they belonged to a club whose expressive
title suggested energetic movement.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE FIRE.

Will Somers belonged to th