ng but an amiable child.

Gay-hearted Marjorie, however, joked with Bertha, and then giggled at her
own jokes, until Bertha was really forced to smile in return.

King, who pushed the doll-cart, was also dressed like a doll. The boy
looked very handsome, in a black velvet suit with lace ruffles at the
wrists and knees, and long white stockings with black slippers. He was
clever, too, in assuming the character, and walked with stiff, jerky
strides, like a mechanical doll that had just been wound up.

Kitty was a dream of beauty. She was a little flower girl, of course, and
wore the daintiest sort of a Dolly Varden costume. Her overdress of
flowered muslin was caught up at the sides in panniers over a quilted
skirt of light blue satin. A broad-brimmed leghorn hat with a wreath of
roses, and fluttering blue ribbons, sat jauntily on her golden hair. May
Perry, who was Kitty's companion, was costumed the same way, and the boy
who pushed their cart was dressed like a page.

The flower cart held not only bouquets and old-fashioned nosegays, but
little potted plants as well.

Cousin Jack had stayed home from business for the day; for, he said, he
couldn't get away from the glories of his bevy of young people.

"Before you go," he said, as the two carts, with their attendants, were
ready to start from his house, "I'll take a snap-shot of you."

He brought out his large camera, and took several photographs of the
pretty group, which, later, proved to be beautiful pictures, and well
worthy of framing.

"Now, go ahead, young peddlers," he said. "And whatever you do, remember
to charge enough for your wares,--but don't charge too much."

"How shall we know what is just right?" asked Kitty, puckering her brow,
as she pondered this knotty question.

"Well, Kit, if you're in doubt, leave it to the buyers. They'll probably
give you more that way, than if you set the price yourself. And
especially with flowers. People always expect to overpay for them
at a fair."

"But I don't want to cheat the people," said Kitty.

"Don't worry about that; they quite expect to pay more than this trumpery
is worth, because it's all for charity. Now skip along, my hearties! And
come back home if you get tired, no matter whether you've sold all your
truck or not. I'll buy whatever you have left."

So waving good-byes to the group looking after them, the children pranced
gaily down the driveway and out into the street.

As Cousin Ethel had t