Maggie stuck her head through the pantry window.

"For de law's sake--dat beau'ful cake. I knew I jes' ought to have 'tended it."

"Maggie, Maggie, why didn't you tell me it was time to look at it?"

"Sure, honey, didn't yo' tol' me I must have nuffin to do with it?"

"Yes, but----" the sentence ended in sobs.

"Never mind, Beth," said Harvey; "Maggie will make you another, won't you, Maggie?"

"I don't want her to make me another. I was going to take a prize with this one, and the judges won't give prizes for burnt cake, boo-hoo."

Suddenly Beth resolved not to cry over spilt milk. She jumped to her feet.

"Harvey, run away. I'm going to make another cake, and I won't let it burn. I'll get the prize yet."

Harvey reluctantly departed. Beth immediately went to work and made another. When once it was in the oven, she watched it so carefully that Maggie feared it would be spoiled by overzeal. For a wonder, it was a great success. A professional cook could not have made a better-looking cake.

By this time, it was growing so late that Beth did not wait to make frosting.

She took her dress and cake over to the Fair building, which was about a quarter of a mile from her home. She was in plenty of time to make her entries.

Dollie was grazing in the pasture when Beth returned. This reminded her of her great desire to ride Dollie, so she called the horse to her, and she came running at the call. Dollie was always sure of sugar from Beth.

Beth put her hand up against the horse and whispered:

"I wish I might ride you, Dollie. I know I could. I'll go and ask mamma if I may."

Away ran Beth to her mother.

"Mamma, may I ride Dollie this morning?"

"No, dear, I'm going to use Dollie myself. I'm going to get Mrs.

Corner, who is to spend the day with me. We are going to the races this afternoon."

"Won't you bring Laura back, too?"

"She probably can't come. She goes to school, you know."

"Mamma, will you let me ride Dollie sometime?"

"Yes, dear, sometime, but don't tease now."

Beth took this as a decided promise. She told Maggie, January, Harvey, and Julia that she was to ride Dollie; that her mamma had said so. She did nothing but talk about the matter the whole morning.

Mrs. Davenport returned with Mrs. Corner in time for luncheon. About two o'clock Beth ran into the library where her mother and her guest were having a cozy chat before starting for the races. She had thought so much about her ride that she took it for granted that Mrs. Davenport must know her thoughts.

"Mamma, I'm going now. May I?"

At this particular moment the conversation between the two women was especially absorbing so that Mrs. Davenport hardly heeded Beth.

"May I, mamma?"

Mrs. Davenport glanced towards her for a second. She took it for granted that Beth wished to play with either Julia or Harvey.

"All right. Run along, dear."

In the seventh heaven of happiness, Beth skipped up-stairs.

She decided that it would never do to ride in an ordinary dress, and believed that her mother would not object if she borrowed her riding habit. Beth knew just where to find it. The skirt was one of those now old-fashioned affairs that almost swept the ground even on a grown-up person.

However, Beth was not to be daunted. She heroically jumped into the skirt, but found that the belt was almost twice too large for her.

This necessitated the use of a safety pin. She took a step towards the bureau, and fell sprawling over the floor, tangled in yards of trailing skirt. She tried to rise, and tripped again. For a moment, she rested on the floor, thinking to herself that it must be a much harder matter to manage a habit than a horse. Then, gathering up the unruly skirt in both hands, she managed to reach the bureau where she pinned the skirt tightly around her. But even now her troubles were not over.

The waist proved almost as big a problem as the skirt. She b.u.t.toned it on over her own dress, but even then it was about twice too large for her.

She looked at herself in a gla.s.s, and burst forth into hearty peals of laughter.

"I declah"--already she p.r.o.nounced "declare" almost like the darkies--"I feel like a cat dressed up in clothes. It can't move without tumbling all over itself, and neither can I."

She held up her arms and flapped them. They were almost lost in the voluminous sleeves. Her hands were not to be seen at all.

"I never can manage a horse without hands," she murmured.

She overcame this difficulty by pinning up the bothersome sleeves.

Next, she jammed her mother's riding hat down on her curls. It, too, was much too large for her, and had some blond frizzes sewn across the front of it. The hat with its false front added the finishing touch of rakishness to Beth. She, however, was as proud as a peac.o.c.k over her attire.

As fast as her awkward skirt would allow, she hurried in search of January.

He was very much amused over her appearance.

"Missy, I declah, yo' looks like a rag bag dat needs some rags to fill it out. Whaffor don't yo' get chuck full of somethin'?"

She would not heed such remarks, but said with great dignity:

"I wish the saddle put on Dollie."

"I'm skeered yo'r maw won't like me to."

"But she told me I might ride."

Still January hesitated.

"I dunno as I kin kotch Dollie."

"You can try. Hurry, January."