away to your business. Your office boy will think
you're lost, strayed, or stolen."

"I suppose I must," sighed Cousin Jack; "it's awful to be a workingman.
Come on, Ned; want to go in to Boston with me?"

The two men went away, and after a while Cousin Ethel called the children
to come to what she called a Dolly-Bee.

On the table, in the pleasant living room, they found heaps of materials.
Bits of silk and lace and ribbon, to dress little dolls,--and all sort of
things to make dolls of.

King insisted on helping also, for he said he was just as handy about
such things as the girls were. To prove this, he asked Cousin Ethel for a
clothespin, and with two or three Japanese paper napkins, and a gay
feather to stick in its cap, he cleverly evolved a very jolly little
doll, whose features he made with pen and ink on the head of the
clothespin.

And then they made dolls of cotton wadding, and dolls of knitting cotton,
and peanut dolls, and Brownie dolls, and all sorts of queer and odd dolls
which they invented on the spur of the moment.

They made a few paper dolls, but these took a great deal of time, so they
didn't make many. Paper dolls were Kitty's specialty. But she cut them so
carefully, and painted them so daintily, that they were real works of
art, and therefore consumed more time than Cousin Ethel was willing to
let her spend at the work.

"You mustn't tire yourselves out doing these," she admonished them. "I
only want you to work at them as long as you enjoy it."

But the Maynards were energetic young people, and when interested, they
worked diligently; and the result was they accumulated a large number of
dolls to sell at the Festival.

King was given his choice between pushing a tinware cart with another
boy, or pushing the doll cart for the girls.

He chose the latter, "because," said he, "I can't leave Mopsy to the
tender mercies of that grumpy girl. And I don't think tinware is much
fun, anyhow."

"How do we know where to go. Cousin Ethel?" said Marjorie, who was
greatly interested in the affair.

"Oh, you just go out into the streets, and stop at any house you like.
There won't be any procession. Every peddler goes when and where he
chooses, until all his goods are sold."

"Suppose we can't sell them?" said Kitty.

"There's no danger of that. They're all inexpensive wares, and the whole
population of Cambridge is expecting you, and the people are quite ready
to spend their money for the goo