. And with a cry of relief, and shame, and fear, the twins plunged
upon her and told their little tale.

"You punish us this time, Fairy," begged Carol. "We--we don't want the
rest of the family to know. We'll take any kind of punishment, but keep
it dark, won't you? Prudence will soon forget, she's so awfully full of
Jerry these days."

"I'll talk it over with Prudence," said Fairy. "But--I think we'll have
to tell the family."

Lark moved her feet restlessly. "Well, you needn't tell Connie," she
said. "Having the laugh come back on us is the very meanest kind of a
punishment."

Fairy looked at them a moment, wondering if, indeed, their punishment
had been sufficient.

"Well, little twins," she said, "I guess I will take charge of this
myself. Here is your punishment." She stood up again, and looked down
at them with sparkling eyes as they gazed at her expectantly.

"We caught on that it was a joke. We knew you were listening in the
closet. And Prudence and I acted our little parts to give you one good
scare. Who's the laugh on now? Are we square? Supper's ready." And Fairy
ran down-stairs, laughing, followed by two entirely abashed and humbled
twins.

CHAPTER III

A GIFT FROM HEAVEN

The first of April in the Mount Mark parsonage was a time of trial and
tribulation, frequently to the extent of weeping and gnashing of teeth.
The twins were no respecters of persons, and feeling that the first of
April rendered all things justifiable to all men, they made life as
burdensome to their father as to Connie, and Fairy and Prudence lived in
a state of perpetual anguish until the twins fell asleep at night well
satisfied but worn out with the day's activities. The twins were
bordering closely to the first stage of grown-up womanhood, but on the
first of April they swore they would always be young! The tricks were
more dignified, more carefully planned and scientifically executed than
in the days of their rollicking girlhood,--but they were all the more
heart-breaking on that account.

The week before the first was spent by Connie in a vain effort to ferret
out their plans in order that fore-knowledge might suggest a sufficient
safe-guard. The twins, however, were too clever to permit this, and
their bloody schemes were wrapped in mystery and buried in secrecy. On
the thirty-first of March, Connie labored like a plumber would if
working by the job. She painstakingly hid from sight all her cherished
possessi