nnecessary
punishment!" Our Aunt Esta said it wasn't a Punishment! It was a Reward!
It was the Tin Locomotive Head that was the punishment! My Father said
he wouldn't have cared a rap if it had been the Tin Locomotive Head!--He
could have smoked through that! But he _wouldn't_ be a Pink Silk Fairy
with White Tarlatan Wings!

The Rich Man began right away to untie the black velvet ribbon on his
leg, and go home! He looked very cheated! He scorned my Father with
ribald glances! "Work?" he gloated. "_Of course_ it won't work! I knew
all the time it wouldn't work!--Two hundred dollars! And forty-three
cents?" he gloated. "_H-a!_"

Our Aunt Esta cried! She put her hand on my Father's arm. It was a very
small hand. It didn't look a bit like a Witch's hand. Except for having
no lovingness in it, it looked a good deal like my Mother's hand.

My Father consented to be turned a little! But not much! He consented to
wear the white tarlatan wings! And the gold paper crown! But not the
garland of roses! He would carry the pink silk dress on his arm, he
said. But he would _not_ wear it!

The Rich Man seemed very much encouraged. He stopped untying the black
velvet ribbon from his leg. He grinned a little.

My Father told him what he thought of him. The Rich Man acknowledged
that very likely it was so. But he didn't seem to mind. He kept right on
grinning.

My Father stalked away in his gold paper crown with the pink dress over
his arm. He looked very proud and noble. He looked as though even if
dogs were sniffing at his heels he wouldn't turn. His white wings
flapped as he walked. The spangles shone. It looked very holy.

The Rich Man made a funny noise. It sounded like snorting.

My Father turned round quicker than _scat_. He glared right through the
Rich Man at our Aunt Esta. He told our Aunt Esta just what he thought of
_her_!

The Rich Man said it wasn't so at all! That the Game undoubtedly was
perfectly practical if----

"If _nothing_!" said my Father. "It's you yourself that are spoiling the
whole effect by running around playing you're a Black Slave with
nothing on but a velvet ribbon round one knee! The very _least_ you
could do," said my Father, "is to have your face blacked! And wear a
plaid skirt!"

"_Eh?_" said the Rich Man.

Our Aunt Esta was perfectly delighted with the suggestion.

The Rich Man took her delight coldly.

He glared at my Father. "I don't think I need any outside help," he
said, "in the