t twelve!" said Mrs. Burgoyne.

"Oh, Mrs. Burgoyne! You WOULDN'T!"

"Yes, I would, granted a moderately secure income, and a rather roomy
country home. Although," added Mrs. Burgoyne, temperately, "I do
honestly think twelve children is too big a family. However, one may be
greedy in wishes!"

"Would you want a child of yours to go without proper advantages," said
Mrs. Lloyd, a little severely, "would you want more than one or two, if
you honestly felt you couldn't give them all that other children have?
Would you be perfectly willing to have your children feel at a
disadvantage with all the children of your friends? I wouldn't," she
answered herself positively, "I want to do the best by Mabel, I want
her to have everything, as she grows up, that a girl ought to have.
That's why all this nonsense about the size of the American family
makes me so tired! What's the use of bringing a lot of children into
the world that are going to suffer all sorts of privations when they
get here?"

"Privations wouldn't hurt them," said Mrs. Burgoyne, sturdily, "if it
was only a question of patched boots and made-over clothes and plain
food. They could even have everything in the world that's worth while."

"How do you mean?" said Mrs. Lloyd, promptly defensive.

"I'd gather them about me," mused Sidney Burgoyne, dreamily, her eyes
on the sky, a whimsical smile playing about her mouth, "I'd gather all
seven together--"

"Oh, you've come down to seven?" chuckled Mrs. Brown.

"Well, seven's a good Biblical number," Mrs. Burgoyne said serenely,
"--and I'd say 'Children, all music is yours, all art is yours, all
literature is yours, all history and all philosophy is waiting to prove
to you that in starting poor, healthy, and born of intelligent and
devoted parents, you have a long head-start in the race of life. All
life is ahead of you, friendships, work, play, tramps through the green
country in the spring, fires in winter, nights under the summer stars.
Choose what you like, and work for it, your father and I can keep you
warm and fed through your childhoods, and after that, nothing can stop
you if you are willing to work and wait."

"And then suppose your son asks you why he can't go camping with the
other boys in summer school, and your daughter wants to join the
cotillion?" asked Mrs. Lloyd.

"Why, it wouldn't hurt them to hear me say no," said Mrs. Burgoyne, in
surprise. "I never can understand why parents, who practise eve