nd
trouble in procuring and arranging.

There had been a heated altercation, however, between Eleanor and Edna
Wright on the day after Eleanor had astonished Grace and her friends by
her fiery outburst, Edna having admitted that she had been responsible
for the changes that had aroused Eleanor's ire.

A quarrel had ensued, in which Edna, having been worsted, had retired
from the field in tears, refusing to have anything further to do with
Eleanor or her booth. At this juncture Miss Tebbs had appeared on the
scene, and peace was restored, although Edna was still taciturn and
sulky, and displayed little interest in what went on around her.

From the moment the doors were opened the citizens of Oakdale looked
inside, feeling particularly good-natured after their Thanksgiving
dinners, and prepared to spend their money.

"It's perfectly wonderful what these children have managed to do on
nothing whatever," Miss Thompson was saying, as she and Mrs. Nesbit, in
the guise of sightseers, were strolling down the middle of the hall.

"It looks to me like a scene from an opera," replied Mrs. Nesbit.

"Yes, we are all very prosperous and clean comic opera gypsies, Mrs.
Nesbit," said Hippy Wingate, who had come up just in time to hear Mrs.
Nesbit's remark.

"Why, Hippy Wingate, I never should have recognized you. You look like
the big smuggler in 'Carmen.' I have forgotten his name."

"I am a smuggler, Mrs. Nesbit," put in Hippy mysteriously. "But don't
give me away. It's not lace goods I've brought over the border, nor
bales of silk and such things. Isn't that what gypsies are supposed
usually to smuggle?"

"I believe it is," answered Mrs. Nesbit. "At least they always appear in
plays and pictures seated at the foot of a high, rocky cliff in some
lonely spot, with bales and casks and strange looking bundles about. No
one would be heartless enough to ask what was inside the bundles, but I
have always had a strong suspicion that it was excelsior."

"What have you been smuggling, Hippy?" asked Miss Thompson. "I wonder
you managed to get it past that line of watchful gipsy girls."

"I won't give it away," replied Hippy. "It's a surprise. You'll see, and
I wager it will be the talk of the place before the evening is over."

"Is it animal, vegetable or mineral, Hippy?" demanded Mrs. Nesbit.

"Animal," replied Hippy. "Very much animal."

"Now, what in the world," the two women exclaimed, their curiosity
piqued.

"Hippy, I