know there is a Mike, and a Pete, and isn't one
named Hank?"

"Yes, and there's Luke and a little fellow that they call Sonny while
they're trying to decide what to name him," said Harry, "and really
he's such a funny looking little fellow that it would be hard work to
think of a name that would fit him."

"There is a girl over on the other part of the town whose name is
Tulip Rose Lillian Buttrick, and she told the girls that her parents
gave her all those names because they couldn't decide which they liked
best."

"What an idea!" cried Rose. "Well, I'm glad I haven't Tulip and
Lillian added to my name."

"I don't see why those people stopped at all," Harry said, "for
there's dandelion, and phlox and marigold, and a whole lot of other
flower names. Seems sort of stingy to give her only three."

"Oh, Harry! Nobody would name a girl 'Phlox,' think how it would look
written," Leslie said.

"I guess they don't worry about how it would look written," Harry
said.

* * * * *

It was when Rose and Leslie and Harry were resting after an exciting
game, that Mrs. Sherwood and Princess Polly arrived.

Then the fun began.

Mrs. Sherwood went in to talk with Aunt Judith, and the four playmates
ran over to the Grafton's for a game of tennis. And while they were
playing, eagerly hoping to win, each trying to outdo the other, little
Sprite Seaford sat in the odd little living room of her home, sorting
her treasures, and at the same time thinking what a fine time Princess
Polly must be having at Aunt Judith's cottage with Rose and her other
playmates.

The pretty shells, the coral, and the star fish, each had places of
their own, but they had been taken out to show to some callers the
afternoon before, and Sprite was now engaged in replacing them, each
in its own especial place.

Captain Seaford was out fishing and Mrs. Seaford had gone to the
village to do a few errands so Sprite was free to take her time about
the task.

Softly she sang as she placed the white shells in one row, and the
pink shells in another.

A smart tap at the door made her start, then she called:

"Come in," and Gwen entered.

Sprite wished that she had not answered the rap.

"Goodness! What a heap of shells. What are you going to do with them?
Going to keep them?" Gwen asked, in a manner that implied that she
thought he lovely sea treasures simply rubbish.

"_Keep_ them!" echoed Sprite. "Why of course I'm g