ung Darling' who wrote about her Mother's Face please come
forward--and get the Peacock Feather Fan!" said my Father.

Carol came forward. He looked very ashamed. He stubbed his toe on the
braided rug.

"It seems to be our son Carol," said my Father, "who conjured up the
picture of--of the blue larkspur!"

"What?" said the Blinded Lady. "_What?_"

She tapped her foot on the floor. She frowned her brows.
"Well--well--well," she said. "It wasn't at all what I intended! Not at
_all_!--Well--well--well!" She began to rock her chair. "But after all,"
she said, "an agreement is an agreement! And the First Prize is the
First Prize!--Let the Little Dumb Boy step forward to the Chinese
Cabinet and choose his Peacock Feather Fan!"

Rosalee gave a little cry. It sounded almost like tears. She ran
forward. She whispered in Carol's ear.

Carol opened his eyes. He took a chair. He pushed it against the
cabinet. He climbed up to the highest shelf. There was a fan as big as
the moon! It was sandalwood! It was carved! It was all peacock feathers!
Blue! Bronze! It was _beautiful_! He took it! He went back to his seat!
His mouth smiled a little! But he carried the Fan as though it was hot!

"The second prize of course," said the Blinded Lady, "goes to the child
who wrote about the soldiers!"

Rosalee stepped forward.

The Blinded Lady took her hand. "It is not exactly as I had wished,"
said the Blinded Lady. "But a Choice of Cats is a Choice of Cats!--You
will find them all in the wood-shed Young Lassie--awaiting your
decision! Choose wisely! A good cat is a great comfort!"

We went to the wood-shed to help Rosalee choose her cat.

All the cats purred to be chosen. It was sad. My Father said it wasn't.
My Father said one cat was plenty.

The White Persian Kitten lay on a soap box. It looked like Easter
Lilies. Rosalee saw it. She forgot all about the fan.

Carol didn't forget about the fan. He stamped his foot. He shook his
head. He took Rosalee's hand and led her to the old Tortoise Shell Cat.
He put the old Tortoise Shell cat in Rosalee's arms. Rosalee looked
pretty surprised. So did the cat.

My sorrow made tears in my eyes. My Mother came running.

"Bless your heart, Ruthy-Girl," she said. "You shall have a Ginger-bread
to-night that _is_ a Picture!" She put a little box in my hand. There
was a little gold pencil in the box. It was my Mother's best little gold
pencil with the agate stone in the end. "Here's Mother's