ping maybe he'd brag on me some more. Going up
the lane I saw a wagon passing with the biggest box I ever had seen,
and I ran to the gate to watch where it went. It stopped at our house
and Frank came toward me as I hurried up the road.

"Where are the folks?" he asked, without paying the least attention to
my asking him over and over what was in the box.

"May and Candace are killing every snake in the driftwood behind the
barn, Shelley and mother are down in the orchard, and father and the
boys are hauling corn."

"Go tell the boys to come quickly and keep quiet," he said. "But don't
let any one else know I'm here."

That was so exciting I almost fell over my feet running, and all three
of them came quite as fast. I stood back and watched, and I just
danced a steady hop from one foot to the other while those men got the
big box off the wagon and opened it. On the side I spelled Piano, so
of course it was for Shelley. It was so heavy it took all six of them,
father and the three boys, the driver and another very stylish looking
man to carry it. They put it in the parlour, screwed a leg on each
corner, and a queer harp in the middle, then they lifted it up and set
it on its feet, under the whatnot, and it seemed as if it filled half
the room. Then Frank spread a beauteous wine coloured cover all
embroidered in pink roses with green leaves over it, and the stylish
man opened a lid, sat down and spread out his hands. Frank said:
"Soft pedal! Mighty soft!" So he smothered it down, and tried only
enough to find that it had not been hurt coming, and then he went away
on the wagon. Father and the boys gathered up every scrap, swept the
walk, and put all the things they had used back where they got them,
like we always did.

Then Frank took a card from his pocket and tied it to the music rack,
and it read: "For Shelley, from her brothers in fact, and in law." To
a corner of the cover he pinned another card that read: "From Peter."

"What is that?" asked father.

"That's from Peter," said Frank. "Peter is great on finishing touches.
He had to outdo the rest of us that much or bust. Fact is, none of us
thought of a cover except him."

"How about this?" asked father, staring at it as if it were an animal
that would bite.

"Well," said Frank, "it was apparent that practising her fingers to the
bone wouldn't do Shelley much good unless she could keep it up in
summer, and you and mother always have done s