ons. The twins were in the barn, presumably deep in plots. Aunt
Grace was at the Ladies' Aid. So when Fairy came in, about four in the
afternoon, there was only Prudence to note the vengeful glitter in her
fine clear eyes. And Prudence was so intent upon feather-stitching the
hems of pink-checked dish towels, that she did not observe it.

"Where's papa?" Fairy asked.

"Up-stairs."

"Where are the twins?"

"In the barn, getting ready for THE DAY."

Fairy smiled delightfully and skipped eagerly up the stairs. She was
closeted with her father for some time, and came out of his room at last
with a small coin carefully concealed in the corner of her
handkerchief. She did not remove her hat, but set briskly out toward
town again.

Prudence, startled out of her feather-stitching, followed her to the
door. "Why, Fairy," she called. "Are you going out again?"

Fairy threw out her hands. "So it seems. An errand for papa." She lifted
her brows and pursed up her lips, and the wicked joy in her face pierced
the mantle of Prudence's absorption again.

"What's up?" she questioned curiously, following her sister down the
steps.

Fairy looked about hurriedly, and then whispered a few words of
explanation. Prudence's look changed to one of unnaturally spiteful
glee.

"Good! Fine! Serves 'em right! You'd better hurry."

"Tell Aunt Grace, will you? But don't let Connie in until morning. She'd
give it away."

At supper-time Fairy returned, and the twins, their eyes bright with the
unholy light of mischief, never looked at her. They sometimes looked
heavenward with a sublime contentment that drove Connie nearly frantic.
Occasionally they uttered cryptic words about the morrow,--and the
older members of the family smiled pleasantly, but Connie shuddered.
She remembered so many April Fool's Days.

The family usually clung together on occasions of this kind, feeling
there was safety and sympathy in numbers--as so many cowards have felt
for lo, these many years. And thus it happened that they were all in the
dining-room when their father appeared at the door. He had his hands
behind him suggestively.

"Twins," he said, without preamble, "what do you want more than anything
else?"

"Silk stockings," was the prompt and unanimous answer.

He laughed. "Good guess, wasn't it?" And tossed into their eager hands
two slender boxes, nicely wrapped. The others gathered about them with
smiling eyes as the twins tremulously tore off th