"Good-by," said the Merboy, as the Porpoise with another curious glance at Jimmieboy swam away. Then the Merboy, turning the Dolphins' heads in the direction of the bureau, started them along. "I shall feel very badly if this is a case of lockjaw," he said to himself. "His parents would drive me out of the house, and I don't think I'd be likely to get as nice a place anywhere else."

"M-mwi a-went wot wock-waw," mumbled Jimmieboy.

"Don't say another word or you'll drive me crazy," returned the Merboy.

"This is simply awful as it is, but when you talk it's worse than awful, it is horrific. Ah, I fancy this must be the bureau," he added, drawing up alongside of a beautiful piece of furniture that stood at the road-side and looked very much like a bureau. "Hold the Dolphins, Jimmieboy, and I'll get out and see if there's any information to be had in regard to your case."

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

MISS APPOLINA'S CHOICE.

BY AGNES LITTLETON.

Part II.

Miss Appolina Briggs was somewhat of a power in the Reid family. She was a cousin of the fathers of Millicent, Joanna, and Peggy, their fathers being brothers, and for many years when they were boys she had made her home with their parents. She now, however, had a house of her own.

She was very wealthy, very aristocratic, and very eccentric.

Kind-hearted and charitable, she preferred to do good in her own way only.

A month or two ago Miss Briggs had informed her relatives that she intended to pa.s.s the summer in England, and that it was barely possible that she would ask one of her young cousins to accompany her. Which should be the fortunate one she should not decide until a week before the date fixed for sailing. That would be time enough, she said, for no preparations would be necessary. All the girl's wants could be supplied on the other side.

This proposition sounded very attractive, for Cousin Appolina was generous even though she was so peculiar, and there was no doubt that in addition to having the pleasure of the trip, a well-stocked wardrobe would fall to the share of the lucky recipient of her favor.

As Peggy had said, there was not much probability that she would be the one honored. She had a habit of making all sorts of speeches in Miss Briggs's presence which did not please the good lady at all. And yet no one knew. It would be just like Cousin Appolina's unexpectedness if she were to veer suddenly around and decree that Margaret, as she always called her, should be the one to go to England.

Consequently, suspense and excitement ran high in the Reid family, and in the intervals of study, fair work, and poetry-making there was much discussion as to which of the three should be Miss Appolina's choice.

She herself had gone to Washington for a few weeks, and the family breathed more easily for a time. When so much depended upon it the girls were greatly afraid of doing something to offend their cousin, which might very easily happen, and in that case she would sail alone with her maid!

In the mean time preparations for the fair continued, and at last the day arrived. Millicent, having convinced herself that this would be the best means of securing the recognition of her powers as a poetess that she wanted, the recognition which had hitherto been denied her by unfeeling editors, had been reeling off verse by the yard.

Each poem had been printed in the form of a little fancy booklet, at considerable expense to the author, it is true, but the girls had plenty of pocket money, and Millicent had eased her conscience with the thought that her object was charity as well as recognition, and each copy that was sold would bring in twenty-five cents to the fair. She had raised the price since the poems came home--she had no idea that they would look so attractive, she said. They would be sure to sell.

Peggy had helped her with a readiness that would have appeared suspicions if Millicent had not been too much absorbed in sentiment to notice it. She had accompanied her cousin to make arrangements for having the poems printed, and had inspected them on their return, and now the morning upon which the fair was to open she offered to carry the box which contained them to an office in the neighborhood, and have them sent to Sherry's, where the fair was to be held, by a district telegraph boy.

"It is much better than ringing for a messenger-boy to come to the house," she said, "for then no one can find out in any way who 'Pearl Proctor' is. I shall be on hand when the box arrives so that I can hear what people say, but you had better not come until afterwards, Mill, for your face would be sure to give it away."

The fancy articles, including Miss Briggs's slippers, had already been sent.

Joanna went to school, longing for the morning to pa.s.s that she might get to the fair herself. She and one of her friends were to manage the "fish pond," while Millicent was to be an aid at the flower-table, and Peggy would a.s.sist in selling some of the fancy articles.

Peggy left the package at the office, and then hailed a car, that she might not fail to reach the fair in time to witness its arrival. She looked forward to having some rare sport. She only wished that she could take some one into her confidence, for it is always so much more fun to laugh with a comrade than to laugh alone. However, a laugh is valuable at any time.

So thought Miss Peggy as she made her way along Thirty-seventh Street in her new spring hat and gown, her eyes dancing with antic.i.p.ation.

The poem on Cousin Appolina had been tucked into the box along with the rest, but very much underneath. In that way Peggy felt confident that it would escape observation at the fair, and yet be among the poems to give Millicent a shock when they came back.

"For of course no one is going to buy those silly things," said Peggy to herself; "and I hope it will be a good lesson to Milly. Such conceit as hers in regard to that poetry I never saw, and it ought to be taken down."

She found the rooms in a state of disorder. Various fashionable dames who had the fair in charge were running about in a vain attempt to bring some degree of order out of the confusion, and Peggy's coming was hailed with delight.

"Oh, Peggy Reid! Just the person I want. Peggy, dear, do hold the end of this scarf while I fasten it here."

"Peggy, just see if you can find the tack-hammer."

"Peggy, you have just come, and can see things with a fresh eye. Tell me the effect of this drapery."

But notwithstanding all these calls upon her, Peggy managed to be conveniently near the door when a messenger-boy appeared, bearing a box addressed, in a printed hand, to Mrs. Pearson, who had charge of the fair. Peggy took the box, dismissed the boy hastily, and carried it to Mrs. Pearson.

"Something else? Oh, do open it, Peggy! I am so busy," exclaimed that lady, precisely as Peggy hoped she would do. She opened the box--that which she herself had so carefully tied up not long before.

On the top lay a type-written card, which read, "Sent by one of the congregation, who hopes that they may bring twenty-five cents apiece."

Beneath were a number of little booklets.

"Why, Mrs. Pearson, do look! Somebody has sent some poems to sell,"

cried Peggy, in tones of great surprise. "A member of the congregation, and they are signed 'Pearl Proctor'! Who in the world can it be?"

Several people gathered about.

"How very funny! One of the congregation? Who do you suppose it is? I wish I had time to read them," said Mrs. Pearson. "They are certainly a novelty at a fair. Twenty-five cents she values them at? The lady is modest. But take care, girls," she added, in a warning whisper, approaching two young women who were laughing immoderately over one of Pearl Proctor's productions, "you must be careful! No one knows who wrote them, and the person may be in the room watching us at this very minute. It will never do to hurt her feelings."

"Oh, but, Mrs. Pearson, if you could only read this! It is the funniest thing I ever read, and the best part of it is, it isn't meant to be at all."

"Never mind, don't laugh. I beg of you! How did they get here, Peggy?"

"A messenger-boy brought them," returned Peggy promptly, feeling very glad that Millicent was not here to see the effect they produced. She was almost sorry that she had urged her to send them. After all it seemed a shame to make fun of the poor dear.

"Well, do be careful, girls," said Mrs. Pearson, as she moved away.

An hour or so later Millicent herself walked into the rooms. She looked very lovely, for her beautiful golden hair had twisted into little curls and waves, the morning being somewhat damp, and there was an unusual sparkle in her dreamy blue eyes. It was very exciting to have one's poems actually for sale.

The first thing that met her gaze was a large sign placed above a small table. Upon the table lay the array of booklets, while the sign read thus:

"A NOVELTY! POEMS BY PEARL PROCTOR.

A MEMBER of THE CONGREGATION.

_Twenty-five Cents Each._"

She did not have sufficient courage to walk boldly up with the air of a stranger and inspect the wares thus offered for sale, so she turned aside and began to talk to some of her friends, asking what she could do to help.

"My dear," said Elsie Pearson, flying up to her, and speaking in a whisper, "I am so glad you have come! I must tell you the greatest joke in the world. Somebody has sent a lot of poems to the fair to sell! Did you ever hear of anything so delicious? Mamma says we ought not to laugh, for the person who wrote them may be in the room, but it is too awfully funny not to laugh the least bit, and I know you are safe."

Millicent smiled stiffly. "Are they funny poems?" she asked. "You seem to find them amusing."