Mandeville's powers of belief. He stood silent, looking
from Marion to Mr. Goodman.

"Of course you can have it. What do I want with it?" asked the old
man, grimly.

James Mandeville moved forward and slipped his small, soft hand into
Giant Despair's big, hard one. "I'll tell you," he said, "you can come
to the party, and I'll let you have a slice of it; and you can help
blow out the candles."

The little voice was eager, but the confiding touch of the dimpled
hand did most execution.

"We shall be glad to have you, Mr. Goodman," Miss Carpenter said,
laughing. "The party is to be in the shop, and very select for the
reason that our circle of friends is limited."

"There's going to be candy," added James Mandeville.

Giant Despair was embarrassed. "Thank you," he said; "I have not been
to a party for a hundred years, and I am in too bad a humor to-day."
Then it seemed necessary to explain the cause,--the lost lease that
had been burned or thrown in the ash barrel.

Miss Carpenter stood beside a table on which lay several large
volumes; from the leaves of one of them the edge of a folded paper was
visible. "Could this be it?" she asked.

"Pshaw! I put it there myself. Confound my eyes and my memory!" cried
the old man.

* * * * *

Of course Giant Despair had no idea of going to the party, yet,
strange to relate, he went. Miss Sarah Leigh met him striding down the
street with two long, gray flannel ears and a beady eye visible above
a bulging overcoat pocket. She turned to look after him, and was much
amazed to see him disappear presently within the shop.

It was Jack, the flannel donkey, who really won the day. After the
visitors had left, Giant Despair stumbled over him as he lay forgotten
on the floor. The strange object was at first puzzling. He turned and
twisted and felt it, until at length getting the right point of view
he recognized it to be a donkey.

A toy animal was no less out of place in that house than a birthday
cake. He was going out for his daily walk; he would leave it at the
shop door. But once at the door he was lost, for James Mandeville
seized upon him joyfully and would not be denied.

It was Saturday afternoon, and so a half holiday in the shop; and it
seemed to Giant Despair, as he stumbled in looking anything but
festive, yet unable to resist his small captor, that there were a
great many people assembled.

It turned out that the only guest was