basket
of yellow daisies.

The feast, as might have been expected at Grandma Maynard's, was
delicious, but the Maynard children could not enjoy it very much because
of their environment. They were not together, and each one being with
several strangers, felt it necessary to make polite conversation.

King tried to talk on some interesting subject to the little girl who sat
next him.

"Have you a flower garden?" he said.

"Oh, no, indeed; we live in the city, so we can't very well have a flower
garden."

"No, of course not," agreed King. "You see, we live in the country, so we
have lots of flowers."

"It must be dreadful to live in the country," commented the little girl,
with a look of scorn.

"It isn't dreadful at all," returned King; "and just now, in springtime,
it's lovely. The flowers are all coming out, and the birds are hopping
around, and the grass is getting green. What makes you say it's
dreadful?"

"Oh, I don't like the country," said the child, with a shrug of her
little shoulders. "The grass is wet, and there aren't any pavements, and
everything is so disagreeable."

"You're thinking of a farm; I don't mean that kind of country," and then
King remembered that he ought not to argue the question, but agree with
the little lady, so he said, "But of course if you don't like the
country, why you don't, that's all"

"Yes, that's all," said the little girl, and then the conversation
languished, for the children seemed to have no subjects in common.

At her table, Marjorie was having an equally difficult time. There was a
good-looking and pleasant-faced boy sitting next to her, so she said,
"Do you have a club?"

"Oh, no," returned the boy; "my father belongs to clubs, but I'm too
young."

"But I don't mean that kind," explained Marjorie; "I mean a club just for
fun. We have a Jinks Club,--we cut up jinks, you know."

"How curious!" said the boy. "What are jinks?"

Marjorie thought the boy rather silly not to know what jinks were, for
she thought any one with common sense ought to know that, but she said,
"Why, jinks are capers,--mischief,--any kind of cutting up."

"And you have a club for that?" exclaimed the boy, politely surprised.

"Yes, we do," said Marjorie, determined to stand up for her own club.
"And we have lovely times. We do cut up jinks, but we try to make them
good jinks, and we play all over the house, and out of doors, and
everywhere."

"It must be great fun," said the boy