ore pleasant. King saw this, too, and he realized
that she was the kind of a girl who obeyed scolding better than coaxing.
So when they reached the next house, King said, "Now we'll all go in here
together to sell the dolls; but we won't go until Bertha puts on a sweet
smile. So, smile away, my lady!"

King's merry speech made Bertha laugh, and the dimples came in her
cheeks, and she looked very pretty as they went up the walk.

"Goodness, Bertha!" exclaimed Elsie. "If you knew how much prettier you
look when you smile, you'd always wear a broad grin!"

Bertha scowled at this, and seeing it, King stopped stock-still.

"Cook up that smile again!" he cried. "Not another step till you do!"

As the lady of the house was waiting for them on the veranda, this was
embarrassing, so Bertha smiled, and then the whole group moved on.

So they kept on for the rest of the trip, King jollying Bertha whenever
it was necessary, and the other girls making merriment for themselves.
Marjorie and Elsie soon became friends, for they were alike merry-hearted
and pleasant-mannered.

It was about noon when they sold their last doll and turned their faces
homeward. Elsie and Bertha went with them, and when they reached Cousin
Jack's house they found Kitty and May Perry already there.

"Here you are, my little peddlers! Here you are, with your empty carts!"
cried Cousin Jack, as the children came upon the veranda. "All sold out,
I see."

"Yes," said Marjorie, "and we could have sold more if we had had them."

"Then there's nothing left for me to buy from you, and I really need a
doll."

"I'll make you one before I go home, Cousin Jack," said Marjorie; "and
then you can keep it to remember me by."

"All right, Mehitabel; good for you! I'll play with it every day,--and
when I go to see my little friends I'll take it with me. And now, my
weary peddlers, let me tell you what you have still before you! A number
of young people, mostly retired peddlers, are coming here to luncheon
with you. But we won't call it luncheon, because that sounds so prosaic.
We'll call it,--what shall we call it?"

"A festival feast," said Kitty. "That sounds gay and jolly."

"So it does," agreed Cousin Jack, "A May Day Festival Feast for the
Maynards, and nothing could be pleasanter nor that!"

And even before Cousin Jack finished speaking, the young guests began to
arrive, and Marjorie realized that it was a party her kind cousins had
made for them.

Th