uth forgot to
wait for the guesses that might come nearer the mark. "But I can't see
that it's particularly patriotic, though it is about our native land,
and I'm dreadfully afraid it's not so very original."

"Original enough. Even in Solomon's time there was nothing new under the
sun," Peggy consoled her. "Now, Priscilla." But Priscilla had colored
fiercely on unfolding her paper and crumpled it in her hand. Even if she
had not instantly recognized the handwriting she would have had no
difficulty in ascribing the sentiment to its rightful source.

"Who is it that I love better than my native land? Can my dearest
Priscilla guess?"

"Read yours, Claire," Peggy said hastily, interrupting Amy who was about
to protest against the suppression of a single conundrum, and Claire
read obediently, "Why was Martha Washington like the captain of a ship?"
It was Peggy who distinguished herself by suggesting, "Because
Washington was her second mate," and Priscilla, whose flushed cheeks
were rapidly regaining their natural hue, pronounced the answer correct.
"Rather suspicious," Amy declared. "Priscilla guesses Peggy's, and
Peggy, Priscilla's. Looks as if it was all fixed up beforehand. Well,
Ruth, yours is the last."

The last conundrum proved to be the most puzzling. "What battle of the
Revolution is like a weather-cock?" Various explanations of the
mysterious affinity were offered, and each in turn rejected. Aunt
Abigail, the author, was finally appealed to.

"Why, dear me!" Aunt Abigail smiled upon the circle of interested faces.
"I haven't the slightest idea, but I was sure that if _any_ battle
of the Revolution was the least bit like a weather-cock, one of you
smart young folks would find it out."

After this auspicious beginning, the cheeriness of the midday meal was
in pleasing contrast to the gloom of breakfast. Even Amy forgot to mourn
over missing the three-legged race, and Ruth, who, under Graham's
tutelage, had become an ardent devotee of baseball, was reconciled to
her failure to witness the unique contest between the Fats and the
Leans. The morning had passed so rapidly, and so pleasantly on the
whole, that every one was inclined to be hopeful regarding the remainder
of the day, and to wait with tranquillity the further unfoldment of
Peggy's plans.

When dinner was over, the dining-room in order, and the last shining
dish replaced on the cupboard shelves, expectant eyes turned in Peggy's
direction, as if to as