he told me that one of the boys, Bob
Chandler, had bought a pair of old cymbals at an antique shop. They were
planning their first sleigh-ride for the same day as ours, and they
thought we'd have no noise-maker with us. I meant to get even with them,
so I brought the big gong that hung in my room, and I guess we made as
much noise as they did. I've a number of curios that my uncle brought
home from abroad. Why didn't I think to bring along that funny little
horn? You could have tooted on that, Valerie."

"Oh, I'm satisfied. We had noise enough," said Hilda Fenton.

At that moment there was a commotion on the rear seat.

Some one was twisting around so persistently that many were made quite
uncomfortable.

Dorothy turned to see what it was all about. She laughed softly, and
touched Nancy's arm.

"It's Arabella," whispered Dorothy.

"Yes, and she's trying to put both shawls on at once," said Nancy.

"Oh, quick! See what Patricia is doing."

Completely out of patience with Arabella's wriggling, Patricia was
taking a vigorous hand.

In a manner anything but gentle she was pulling the heavy shawls up
around Arabella's head and shoulders.

Betty Chase said that she was "yanking" them, and the word, if not
elegant, was truthfully descriptive.

"_Don't_ knock my hat off!" whimpered Arabella.

"I don't care what I do if only I get those old shawls onto you so
you'll sit still!" declared Patricia.

When Arabella settled herself in her place she took a third more room
than before, and looked like a little old woman rolled up in many
blankets.

Arabella sat firm and immovable, staring through her spectacles. She did
not turn to the right or the left, and one would say that she did not
know that the girls were laughing at her.

"Don't you wish you had just one more shawl?" said Patricia.

"Not if I had to have you put it on," drawled Arabella. "You shoved my
hat on one side of my head, and it's felt queer ever since."

"How do you know that the hat has felt queer?" Valerie asked, smothering
a laugh.

"I guess you'd feel queer if Patricia Levine had once taken hold of
you," was the quick response, and Valerie ceased teasing.

"Dorothy knows a jolly sleighing song," said Nancy.

"Sing it! Sing it!"

"Oh, please sing it, Dorothy," clamored eager voices.

"Sing it with me, Nancy," Dorothy said. "Your alto makes it fine."

Their voices blended sweetly, and the melody floated out on the crisp
air, so that a t