when stockings were
torn or face and hands soiled. And as a playground the beach was a
wonderland.

She and Jimmie Bacheldor picked up shells, built sand forts, skipped
flat stones along the surface of the water at high tide, and picked up
scallops and an occasional quahaug at low water. Jimmie was, generally
speaking, a satisfactory playmate, although he usually insisted upon
having his own way and, when they got into trouble because of this
insistence, did not permit adherence to the truth to obstruct the path
to a complete alibi. Mary-'Gusta, who had been taught by the beloved
Mrs. Bailey to consider lying a deadly sin, regarded her companion's
lapses with alarmed disapproval, but she was too loyal to contradict and
more than once endured reproof when the fault was not hers. She had had
few playmates in her short life and this one, though far from perfect,
was a joy.

They explored the house together and found in the big attic and the
stuffy, shut-up best parlor the most fascinating of treasure hordes. The
former, with its rows of old trunks and sea chests under the low eaves,
the queer garments and discarded hats hanging on the nails, the dusky
corners where the light from the little windows scarcely penetrated even
on a sunny May afternoon, was the girl's especial Paradise. Here she
came to play by herself on rainy days or when she did not care for
company. Her love of make-believe and romance had free scope here and
with no Jimmie to laugh and make fun of her imaginings she pretended to
her heart's content. Different parts of that garret gradually, in her
mind, came to have names of their own. In the bright spot, under the
north window, was Home, where she and the dolls and David--when the
cat could be coaxed from prowlings and mouse hunts to quiet and
slumber--lived and dined and entertained and were ill or well or happy
or frightened, according to the day's imaginative happenings. Sometimes
Home was a castle, sometimes a Swiss Family Robinson cave, sometimes
a store which transacted business after the fashion of Hamilton and
Company. And in other more or less fixed spots and corners were Europe,
to which the family voyaged occasionally; Niagara Falls--Mrs. Bailey's
honeymoon had been spent at the real Niagara; the King's palace; the den
of the wicked witch; Sherwood Forest; and Jordan, Marsh and Company's
store in Boston.

Jimmie Bacheldor liked the garret well enough, but imagination was not
his strongest q