won prize to be a success at the game. But he took up a
position beside the pianist and watched with amused interest. It was
really just as good fun as being a participant.

Gradually all were eliminated save the Southern Avenue boy and Louise.
The music began again under Mrs. Martin's nimble fingers, and swelled in
volume like the notes of a church organ. Then it dragged and paused just
long enough to send Louise flying to the seat before it picked up the
fateful melody. Suddenly, without hint of a finish in the throbbing,
rapidly beating march, there came the end. Louise found herself standing
with the high-wooden back toward her, while the Southern Avenue
contestant yelled triumphantly from his throne.

"Shucks!" said John in disgust. "Why didn't he let her have it? I
would."

Next came "A tisket, a tasket, a green and yellow basket." The fun grew
fast and furious. No standing aloof in a corner of the room for the boys
now. They enjoyed themselves too well, as each, in turn, chased, or was
chased by some nimble-footed maiden around the circle. There followed
"Thimble, thimble, who's got the thimble," and then Mrs. Martin's even
voice:

"Perhaps some boy will suggest a game."

The winner of "Musical chairs," emboldened by his triumph, called out,
"Kiss the pillow!"

Little shrieks and cries of "Won't play!" arose from some of the girls.
Others maintained a coy silence. Eventually the whole company joined;
that is, all save John. He saw no fun in such pastime. What was the use
of kneeling on a pillow and kissing, for example, homely Ella Black?
Other boys might, if they wished. There was but one divinity worthy of
his homage, and he would pay none of it to other maidens.

So he followed Mrs. Martin into the dining-room, to that lady's great,
though secret, merriment, and helped her arrange the plates and the
spoons and napkins for the refreshments which were to follow later. The
shouts from the parlor rose louder and louder.

Then came a sudden silence. Mrs. Martin turned towards the hall. Surely
they didn't need her assistance again! As she passed the doorway, cries
of "Post-office," "let's play 'Post-office,'" broke forth, and she
returned to the table with a satisfied smile. Evidently the members of
the party were furnishing their own amusement with great success.

Louise, her curls bobbing excitedly, darted into the room and seized
John by the arm.

"Come on," she begged, for she was afraid he wasn't e