. If she hasn't enough, I'll go to Mrs. Squires. I'll take
up a collection, mother, a missionary collection."

"I'm afraid your Aunt Serinda will think--" began Mother Brace faintly.

"Yes, I know she will think," Gerry agreed. "She will say, 'How
perfectly ridiculous!' But before I get through she will give me a bed
and very likely a blanket. I shall start out to-morrow morning and see
what I can do."

True to her word, the sun had not dried the dew from the grass that was
rapidly growing green under its spring warmth before Gerry was on her
way up the neat box-bordered walk at Aunt Serinda's.

"The Jimsons!" sputtered that good woman when Gerry began to dilate upon
their forlorn condition. "Jimson weeds I call 'em. Of all the shiftless,
good-for-nothing lots! They can't be much worse off now old Jim's gone."

"No, ma'am," said Gerry; "they don't need to be. They are going to be
better off, Aunt Serinda. They're coming to live in our barn. You know
we never use it, and it's a specially tight barn, with more windows than
most."

Aunt Serinda held up her hands in horror.

"In--your--barn? How perfectly ridiculous! Why, they'll bring microbes
enough to poison you all. And they'll run over everything."

"I hope so," said Gerry promptly. "Little Jimson-weeds have to run
somewhere. It might better be over our good clean grass than down there
in the centre where there's mischief waiting to be done every minute.
They won't bring any microbes, though, because I mean to have them burn
up all their old things before they come, I'm taking up a collection
this morning to furnish the barn. You are going to give me a bed and
some other things out of the attic, aren't you, auntie?"

"Well, of all things!" Aunt Serinda stood with her hands on her hips,
and stared at Gerry. "If you aren't the beat of any girl I ever saw! I
suppose you'd like to have me take down my kitchen stove for 'em, and
send along the spring rocker, from the parlor, besides."

Gerry laughed cheerily.

"Oh, no, auntie, only just the things up in the attic that you can spare
as well as not. You know you'd rather someone would have the use of them
than to have them wasted up there. Couldn't we go up now and see? I
ought to hurry a little. I may have to go to lots of places before I get
enough."

Aunt Serinda turned, and led the way up stairs without a word.

"There is a bed," she admitted when they stood under the peaked roof. "I
took it down from the s