venteen. And, of course, it wasn't Carol. So it must have
been me.

The Rich Man gave an awful glare.

"Who are these children?" he demanded.

Our Aunt Esta swallowed.

"They are my--my Demonstrators," she said.

"'Demonstrators?'" sniffed the Rich Man. He glared at Carol. "Why don't
you speak?" he demanded.

My mother made a rustle to the door-way.

"He can't," she said. "Our son Carol is dumb."

The Rich Man looked very queer.

"Oh, I say," he fumbled and stuttered. "Oh, I say--! After all there's
no such great harm in a giggle. My little girl Posie cries all the time.
_All_ the time, I mean! _Cries_ and _cries_ and _cries_!--It's a
fright!"

"She wouldn't," said our Aunt Esta, "if she had a game like this to play
with."

"Eh?" said the Rich Man.

"She could wear the Witch's hideous cape!" said our Aunt Esta. "And the
queer pointed black hat! And the scraggly gray wig! And the great
horn-rimmed spectacles! And the hump on her back! And----"

"My daughter Posie has Ti--Titian red curls," said the Rich Man coldly.
"And the most beautiful brown eyes that mortal man has ever seen! And a
skin so fair that----"

"That's why I think it would rest her so," said our Aunt Esta, "to be
ugly outside--instead of inside for a while."

"_Eh?_" said the Rich Man.

He glared at our Aunt Esta.

Our Aunt Esta glared at him.

Out in the kitchen suddenly the most beautiful smell happened. The smell
was soup! Spiced Tomato Soup! It was as though the whole stove had
bloomed! My Father came to the door. "What's it all about?" he said. He
saw the Rich Man. The Rich Man saw him. "Why, how do you do?" said my
Father. "Why, how do you do?" said the Rich Man. They bowed. There was
no room on the Dining Room table to put the dishes. There was no room
anywhere for anything. We had to eat in the kitchen. My Mother made
griddle cakes. The Rich Man stirred the batter. He seemed to think it
was funny. Carol had to sit on a soap-box. Our Aunt Esta sat on the edge
of a barrel with her stockings swinging. It made her look not so strict.
"All the same," worried the Rich Man, "I don't see just why you fixed
the price at two hundred dollars and forty-three cents?--Why not two
hundred dollars and forty-five cents? Or even the round sum two hundred
and one dollars?"

Our Aunt Esta looked pretty mad. "I will be very glad--I'm sure," she
said, "to submit an itemized bill."

"Oh, nonsense!" said the Rich Man. "It was just your mental p