Aunt Selina felt like rebuking Dot, but the children smiled sympathetically and knew Dot was sincere in her desire to help the old lady, so the invalid replied instead,

"Dot, that is just the trouble! I can't forget the habits of seventy years. I wish I could make-believe I was as young and spry as you are."

"If you wish, then you can! Remember the story of Sarah Crewe?" cried Ruth, helping Miss Selina to the next step.

"I saw an old lady up in Casco Bay town last summer who was older than you and she never had time to remember her age, because she had to work all day for other folks. She said she slept like a baby every night. Daddum said one reason she looked so young was that she hadn't time to worry about growing old," said Dot.

"If I had had to work for others instead of being pampered until I couldn't do a thing for myself, maybe I would feel as young as anyone," admitted Aunt Selina.

Meantime, without being conscious of the act, the old lady was being helped up the steps by Ruth, until, at the last words, she reached the top.

"Why, I'm up and never knew it!" she laughed.

"That's just the way to forget!" cried Dot, clapping her hands.

"And you've left your troubles behind as I told you to," added Ruth.

A chair was placed for Aunt Selina who looked about the Nest with keen interest.

"Mary Talmage, I just wager this was all your idea, wasn't it?" she commented, as she noted the sides of the Nest covered with straw matting, and the cute wicker table and chairs.

"Yes, Flutey, it was. But listen until we tell you how we found this Nest and the furniture," said Ruth, and all the Blue Birds chirped in to tell the story about the Nest and how the furniture was found hidden in unexpected places about the lawn and in the shrubbery.

Aunt Selina chuckled, but Mrs. Talmage spoke with some seriousness.

"Blue Birds, time is flying, and we must talk about our magazine."

Ruth then explained the presence of the children who wished to join the Nest. Mrs. Talmage looked sorry.

"Dearies, I would like to have you with us, but really I cannot take proper charge of more than I have at present. I want to do the work right and that will be impossible with too many in one Nest. But I have a suggestion to offer. Mrs. Catlin is so interested with us in the work that I am sure she will gladly start you in a Nest of your own. She has plenty of time, and a beautiful place, so you will be just as happy there as here. We can all meet when necessary and talk over affairs together. I will write a note to her and explain, then you can take it over."

"I know Mrs. Catlin! We live on the same street!" exclaimed one of the children.

"I guess we all know Mrs. Catlin, and like her; if we can't join Ruth's Nest, I'd like to be in one of Mrs. Catlin's," said another little girl.

After bidding them good-by as they ran across the lawn, the Blue Birds settled down to hear the plans for work on the magazine.

"I have some ideas which I would like to present to save time," said Mrs. Talmage.

"I apportioned a page to each one of you to edit and expect you to have the line of writing that best suits your ability.

"For instance," continued Mrs. Talmage: "To Dot Starr, who did the cut-out paper furniture so well at the school-house this summer when we made the paper doll houses for the city children, I gave a page called, 'What Can Be Made of Paper.'

"To Edith, who always makes such good candy, I gave the 'Candy Kettle.'

"To Betty, who is clever with her pencils, I gave the 'Drawing Lesson.'

"To Ruth, who loves housekeeping, I gave 'Household Hints.'

"To Norma, who likes to sew, I gave the 'Doll's Wardrobe.'

"To May, who takes such good kodak pictures, I gave the 'Camera Corner.'

"To Frances, who is an adept at puzzles and games, I gave 'Puzzledom.'

"There are besides many other pages to edit which I think will have to be done by the boys, and some grown-ups, so I just jotted down the names of the boys that I think are capable of doing it.

"I gave Ned a page for 'Domestic Animals,' Meredith Starr can have a page on 'Wild Animals,' and Jinks a page on 'Insects and Reptiles.'

"Then, there will be need for other articles which the other boys can supply, and they can all help with the publishing. I shall write to an old friend who was judge of the Juvenile Court for years, and most likely has very interesting stories to tell. Another well-known writer of children's books lives in Washington, D. C., and I feel quite sure of her interest when I tell her what our plans are. Besides, Uncle Ben knows people who will contribute, as he told us so."

"Oh, Mrs. Talmage, do you really believe the magazine will be so good that folks will subscribe for it?" questioned Norma.

"Why, of course! Didn't you hear Uncle Ben say that he would be ashamed to send anything less than a real magazine through the mail?—That we would have to do our work over again if it was poorly done?" said Mrs. Talmage.

"Just think! My name on a magazine page with my cut-out furniture on it!" cried Dot, hugging her sides.

"How many folks will get one, do you suppose?" asked Betty.

"The more the merrier," laughed Mrs. Talmage.

"Mother Wings, how do people get a list of names where children want a magazine?" asked Ruth.

"Oh, different ways. Uncle Ben may have a list of families where there are children. I know dozens of friends who have children; Mrs. Catlin does, too. Then, there are the Wells, Stevens, Starrs, and so on: all families who know other families where there are children. Why, friends of mine in England and Germany will take this magazine if I send them a sample copy. And so a list grows when everyone tries to help."

"If we are only printing this magazine to help along our farms for poor children I don't see why anyone in Europe would want to take the paper," said Dot.

"Don't you be so sure about that, Miss Dot!" said Aunt Selina. "After this organization gets agoing I believe it will make such a stir that its light won't 'be hidden under a bushel' very long. Only keep your magazine at high-water mark, and you will see a marvel before the year is over."

Aunt Selina's remark made such an impression on Mrs. Talmage that she suddenly realized how important their venture might turn out to be, providing everyone did their best.

A loud halloo coming from the direction of the carriage house called the Blue Birds' attention to the open door. Mr. Talmage and Uncle Ben were standing there beckoning for the Blue Birds.

Aunt Selina found she could get down from the Nest quite nimbly, and all started toward the building which was to be known in the future as the "Publishing House."

Inside, about twenty boys were sawing, hammering, and calling to each other while Ike and Simon bossed the work. At one side of the entrance the front corner of the large room had been measured off, and a partition about six feet high erected. This office had a wide window in front, and a closet on the side wall. The partition was of oak-stained ceiling boards that had been taken out of an attic chamber of the Talmage residence when that room had been refinished. The partition had a door to match, and the boys' work was exceptionally good. Six boys were busy completing the nailing of the partition and two more were so engaged upon hanging the door that the visitors were scarcely noticed.

"Hi, there! Jinks, start that screw, will you?" called Ned, trying to balance the door on his toes while the hinge insisted upon slipping out of the notch that had been made for it.

"I will, if you will stop wriggling the old thing!" replied Jinks, who had pinched his finger several times and had become wary of the unsteady door.

Ike saw the difficulty the boys were having and, while the Blue Birds stood watching the struggle, came over and offered to help them.

"This scene is as good as a vaudeville, Mary," laughed Uncle Ben. "That's why I wanted you to see it."

"Oh, I think they have done wonderfully well," replied Mrs. Talmage, with interest.

"They have, and Ben is so tickled with the boys' whole-hearted support of the plan, that he is having the time of his life," added Mr. Talmage.

The other boys had made a strong bench to sit upon, and a rude table with a board top.

The whole interior of the place was covered with sawdust, shavings, and pieces of timber. Planes and chisels were in constant demand, and hammers, screw-drivers and saws were all making a veritable bedlam of a noise, when Ike called "Time."

"Too dark to see what you are doing," he explained.

"Turn on the electric lights, Ike," said Ned.

"Better not—you boys have done far more than we thought you could and there is no use in 'driving a willing horse to death,'" advised Mr. Talmage.

As the boys dropped tools and stretched tired arms, or bent backs, they realized that the unusual work had made muscles ache.

"Get on your caps and coats, Bobolinks, and come out on the lawn to hear of my trip to the city," said Uncle Ben.

In a few moments the room was empty and the children crowded about Uncle Ben who sat cross-legged on the soft grass, while Ike placed chairs for Aunt Selina and Mrs. Talmage.

"Well, to start at the beginning, I took the eight-ten train this morning, and I was introduced to the Oakdale Commuters as 'Uncle Ben of the Blue Birds and Bobolinks.' That was reference enough for anyone. I was looked upon as a man to be envied and I even saw covert glances from some jealous eyes that looked me up and down and saw no especial favor to have boosted me in the estimation of the B. B. & B. B. Company."

"Now, Uncle Ben, stop your fooling and tell us about the trip," rebuked Ruth.

"I am, Fluff, but I want to begin at the right end of the story," teased Uncle Ben.

"Oh, begin anywhere, only get somewhere!" cried Mr. Talmage, laughing.

With a sigh that indicated that he was misunderstood, Uncle Ben continued his story.

"Mr. Wells, Mr. Stevens, Mr. Starr, Mr. Wilson, and many other men you know promised to advise and assist the boys in every way possible."

"What did Daddum say?" cried Dot, eagerly.

"Don't interrupt, Dot!" admonished Meredith, sternly.

"Well, Mr. Starr offered a series of articles on his experiences in lumber camps, and, besides, he promised to take hold of any part of the plan in which we could use him," replied Uncle Ben. "Mr. Wells has a book that will prove valuable for our undertaking. It is a directory of benevolent institutions and contains the names and addresses of every asylum or home in the country."

"Why, Uncle Ben, that is exactly what we need to find our sick children for the farms, isn't it?" said Ruth, happily.

Uncle Ben nodded his head and continued.

"Then, Mr. Stevens offered to have his solicitors try to secure some advertising for the magazine. His agency is one of the best in the city and I think his offer a fine one."

At the idea of having advertisements appear in the magazine, the Blue Birds and Bobolinks looked at each other in surprise.

"We never thought of that!" ventured Ned.

"Sounds like real work, when you hear the words 'solicitors' and 'advertisements,' doesn't it?" commented Jinks.

"I've been trying to make you understand from the first that this will mean work as well as pleasure," insisted Uncle Ben.

"They'll all wake up to that fact soon enough, Ben—go on with your story," laughed Mr. Talmage.

"Mr. Wilson, who is connected with the Oakdale Paper Mills, then offered to donate enough paper to get out several months' issues, so I accepted that offer with delight, thinking you could make use of Aunt Selina's offer in some other way. Mr. Wilson is going to bring some samples of paper over to the Publishing House soon and let us make our selections. A man whom I just met offered to speak to the Manhattan Subscription Agency about taking subscriptions for you and giving the magazine a good position in their next catalogue."

"So much good luck actually turned Uncle Ben's head," laughed Mr. Talmage, during a moment's silence. "Why, he hardly knew what he went to the city for, and I had to guide him by the arm to show him the way to his office."

"Of course, my friends here know better than to believe any such scandalous tales about me!" replied Uncle Ben, looking at his brother as if to dare him to tease any more.

The children always enjoyed these make-believe quarrels between the two brothers, and Ned generally egged them on. To-day, however, he was too eager to hear about the trip to the city and so urged Uncle Ben to finish the story.

"We found the machinery that I think you can best use here, and had it prepared for shipment. Just as we were leaving the store-room a man came down with a load of type.

"'Where are you taking that?' I asked him.

"'Boss said to send it off to be melted down,' replied the man.

"'Just leave it on top of this packing case—I'll see that it is taken care of,' I told him, and he did as I said.

"Now, boys, all of that type is coming out here for you to work with. I had it charged to my account at the office, for it was a 'big find' to get hold of some type just at the time we needed it," concluded Uncle Ben, taking a long breath of relief.

"And now, I'll tell you of all the things Uncle Ben forgot to mention," laughed Mr. Talmage.

"When we left the stock-room and went to his office, he picked up the telephone and called up more friends than I ever thought he knew. Two or three of them were invited to lunch with us, and the others were told about the wonderful work the Oakdale children were planning. Every one of his friends was told to help along or suggest some way to boost the magazine. Of course, they had to promise."

Uncle Ben chuckled to himself as his brother told about the telephone experiences.

"Now, we come to the time when this crafty uncle of yours met his friends at lunch. What do you think his plot was? Well, just listen and I will tell you," and Mr. Talmage nodded his head warningly at his brother.

"One of his guests was Mr. Connell, the man that owns one of the largest engraving plants in the city. This Uncle Ben told his story in such an engaging way that that business man actually offered to turn out the plates you needed for the magazine at actual cost for several months. We all know what that means—several hundred dollars on the credit side of the ledger."

All eyes were turned toward Uncle Ben for confirmation of the great offer, and he nodded his head smilingly.

"One of the best business advisers I know in New York said that he thought you children had an unusually good idea for a successful business investment, and hoped that you would keep it up until you were adults and saw the financial benefit in it," said Uncle Ben, seriously.

The girls were pleased at this news, but the boys were hilarious to find that a clever business man approved of the plan they were working out.

"When will the machinery be here, Uncle Ben?" asked Ned.

"It is coming by freight and will take a few days, but you will be kept busy until then in finishing the shop-work," returned Uncle Ben.

"Yes, indeed, we will have to build some stands for type, too, with the boxful you got for us," answered Ned.

"We Blue Birds spent all of our afternoon engaging editors to take charge of the pages," ventured Ruth, who thought the Blue Birds had been quiet too long.

"You'll have to have all the pages ready to hand over to me by the tenth of October, you know; I'll need about three days for making linotype and then you can have the proofs back," said Uncle Ben.

"Oh, we will have everything ready long before the tenth," laughed Mrs. Talmage.

"From the way the Blue Birds are working, I should say that each one will have about five hundred pages written by that time," added Aunt Selina, smilingly.

"In that case, we will have to have each page add a notice at the bottom: 'To be continued in our Nest.'"



CHAPTER VII

BLUE BIRD WISDOM AND BOBOLINK WORK

"There! my page is all done!" exclaimed Ruth, holding a sheet of paper away to admire the neatly written notes for "Household Hints."

"Mine's done, too, but I'm going to copy it over to-night to make it look neat as a pin," said Norma.

"Did you get any new candy recipes?" asked Dot eagerly.

The little Blue Bird who took charge of the "Candy Kettle" smacked her lips emphatically.

"I haven't started to ink the pencil lines of my cut-out paper furniture, but that won't take long," explained Dot. "I started with the kitchen because Mumzie said no good housekeeper would furnish a parlor if she had no kitchen equipment."

"I did my drawing lesson, but I haven't written the lesson telling the children how to make the picture," said Betty, with a worried look toward Mrs. Talmage.

"Plenty of time, dear," soothed Mrs. Talmage. "You know Uncle Ben said we would have until the tenth of the month."

The Blue Birds were gathered in the cherry-tree Nest after school, one day, waiting for the signal from the Publishing House which would tell them they might run over and inspect the huge pieces of machinery that had arrived that day from New York. Ike and Simon had to help the three truckmen as they placed rollers under the press and rolled it from the truck and into the room. The stitcher, cutter and other pieces were not so unwieldy to move and place. At noon, Ned saw the men struggling with the press and so refrained from going near the house, but he told the other Bobolinks, and immediately after school was dismissed a crowd of boys ran to their shop.

The Blue Birds had been enjoined to keep out of the way while the boys cleared things up and investigated the various pieces of machinery. It was a strain on their patience, however, to remain in their Nest and listen to the laughs, exultant shouts, and sounds of satisfaction coming from the carriage house.

All things have an end, so Uncle Ben soon appeared at the wide doorway of the Publishing House and gave a shrill whistle for the Blue Birds. Instantly, seven little girls took flight down the steps and across the lawn, leaving Mrs. Talmage to assist Aunt Selina.

The Blue Birds ran in and looked about. The great, ugly, black machines with wheels, rollers and arms everywhere, did not impress them very favorably.

"Can't make head or tail of the thing!" scorned Dot.

"No one expects a girl to understand," replied her brother Don.

"I would be afraid of that dreadful looking knife!" shuddered Betty, standing at a safe distance and pointing to the wide blade of the paper cutter.

Then the children crowded about the stitcher while Uncle Ben showed the wonderful work the machine did.

The electric attachments had not yet been completed, so the demonstration of the machines had to be by gestures. But Uncle Ben was equal to it, and the children felt that they could almost see the machines running as they listened to his explanations.

"Well, Uncle Ben, I don't see how we can start this work without you superintending us," ventured Meredith.

"It all seemed simple enough when we were talking about printing a magazine, but this job is more than I can do," admitted Jinks.

"I am at home with my little press, Uncle Ben, but these big fellows make me want to run away from the contract we made with you," added Ned, seriously.

The Blue Birds and younger Bobolinks heard the older boys with anxious concern lest the entire plan should fail.

"I thought of just such a contingency and provided for it," replied Uncle Ben, with his optimistic manner. "I realize that you all go to school and afternoons after school do not give you much time to experiment on these machines, so I found two young men who used to do good work for us who were pleased to come out here for a few weeks and show you boys how to do things. They won't come until the galley proofs arrive, but then, they will help you get out the first issue and teach you everything there is to know about these machines. They will take them all apart and teach you how to put them together again. A machine is like a man's valuable animal—if you pay no attention to its welfare, it does not last long enough to pay you for its keep."

"We'll look after our machinery all right, Uncle Ben," agreed Ned, with the look of the workman who truly loves his tools.

"I'm sure you will, and I hope the Blue Birds will have as much pride in turning out commendable articles for us to print," added Uncle Ben, looking at Mrs. Talmage.

"Oh, Uncle Ben, there's one question I want to ask—may we each sign our own name to our page or must we make up a pretend name?" asked Ruth.

"Why, sign your very own name, of course; that is one way of making you keep up to the mark. If you only had a pretend name on your page you might get careless and say, 'Oh, no one knows who it is, anyway, so I don't care if this story isn't as good as it ought to be.'"

Mrs. Talmage and Aunt Selina smiled, for they could see the wisdom of the remark.

"I guess my father will be proud to see my name in a magazine," boasted Dot Starr.

"All depends on what you tack your name to, Dot," laughed Meredith.

"It'll be fine, all right!" exclaimed Dot, nodding her head emphatically.

"Shall we have our names at the top or at the bottom of the pages, Ben?" asked Mrs. Talmage.

"Oh, please, Uncle Ben, do put them at the top! I am afraid no one will stop to read our names if you have them at the bottom," worried little Betty.

Everyone laughed, but Uncle Ben assured her that the name would be placed directly under the name of the article.

Then, while the Blue Birds watched the boys placing type in the cases, Uncle Ben sat down beside Mrs. Talmage and had a quiet talk about affairs in general.

In concluding he said, "Now don't you worry if the children should neglect a page now and then, for I can turn in heaps of good stories and articles any time we may need them."

"Oh, these children are so reliable that they would rather do without food or sleep than neglect anything that promises funds for next summer's farms," returned Mrs. Talmage.

"Glad to hear it, and hope they keep it up. Now, what pages have you provided for each month—and have you any to spare for some prominent writers who are friends of mine and feel deeply interested in this venture?" asked Uncle Ben.

"Oh, yes!" replied Mrs. Talmage. "We have seven pages taken by the Blue Birds and four by the Bobolinks. Then there is a story Aunt Selina has been thinking of writing, and a page for music that her friend in New York will contribute. Mrs. Catlin promised to give us some tale of adventure each month and that will take two pages. So, let me see—that takes up, in all, sixteen pages. How many pages shall we have in the magazine?"

"About forty-eight is the usual size for such a paper," replied Uncle Ben, figuring out Mrs. Talmage's number of pages and making a memorandum of the balance remaining for use.

"Gracious! then we will have to find much more manuscript than I thought," worried Mrs Talmage.

"No, I do not think so—that is what I want to find out to-day. A very good friend of mine who had charge of Field's Museum for four years, so heartily endorsed this plan that he offered to supply a page article on plant life each month. His name alone is valuable to a paper, and it will certainly give weight to our magazine. Then, besides him, a very close friend, who has been connected with a prominent book concern for more than twenty years, called me up to say that this idea was just what he has been hoping for. Both he and his wife are eager to assist in some way. I suggested that they supply a page on bird life and give us some valuable hints about our feathered friends. This man has published numerous books on the subject of birds and is just the one to speak with authority. The moment I mentioned it, he accepted my invitation; so we have two renowned writers for most interesting and instructive pages each month," said Uncle Ben.

"Why, how wonderful!" exclaimed Aunt Selina, who had been silent during the conversation. "I don't see how you ever accomplish such miracles!"

Mrs. Talmage looked at Uncle Ben and said, laughingly, "Maybe it's because we never take 'no' for an answer. We keep at an idea until it is hammered into everyone's heart and mind."

"And the moment our friends have it well hammered in they get so interested in succeeding that others are sought by them and the same story hammered into another head and heart," added Uncle Ben.

"Well, I'm hammered and rooted in the work, and am anxious to have friends in it, too. Is that the way you do?" asked Aunt Selina.

"That's just it! and before anyone else knows what's going on, dozens of folks are working on the same idea," replied Mrs. Talmage.

"Mary said something about a story that you wished to contribute, Aunt Selina—what is it?" asked Uncle Ben.

"An experience I had in the Civil War when I was visiting my old school chum, Rebecca Crudup. You have never heard any of my tales of that visit, but I assure you they are exciting."

"And you were there! Why, Aunt Selina, your manuscript would be valuable to any magazine! I wish you would let me read it before you turn it over to the Blue Birds," said Uncle Ben eagerly, the business instinct for new material for his magazine pushing the Blue Birds' magazine into the background.

"You may see it after it is published in the children's paper," quietly replied Aunt Selina.

Uncle Ben took the rebuke in the right spirit, and said, "Is your friend alive to-day?"

"She was until last year, but her daughter is the musician I wish to get 'rooted' in this work for a music page. I haven't her studio address, or I would have written to her about this."

"Give me her name and the last address you knew of, and I will locate her as soon as I get back to the city," offered Uncle Ben.

Uncle Ben wrote the name and late address in a book then turned to the ladies with a suggestion.

"Aunt Selina's story will surely take more than the two pages you spoke of, so why not make a serial story of her Civil War experience?"

"Splendid! That is just the thing," cried Mrs. Talmage.

"I could make it as long as you wanted it to run, for Rebecca visited me after the war and told me plenty of her wild adventures after I returned home from the South. Why, my coachman, Abe, was one of the Crudup slaves. He says they all stuck close to the family, for they loved them and wanted to remain, but Mr. Crudup lost most of his wealth in the war and had no place or means for so many servants," related Miss Selina.

The children had made a thorough inspection of the machinery and type by this time and had joined the grown-ups.

"What was that you were telling mother, Aunt Selina?" asked Ned, who overheard the word "war" and was interested.

"Why, we just discovered that Aunt Selina had a very exciting time in the South during the Civil War and she is going to write it up for your magazine," explained Uncle Ben.

"Oh, goody, goody!" exclaimed a chorus of voices.

"It's strange that you never told us any of those stories, Aunt Selina," ventured Mrs. Talmage.

"Oh, it all happened so long ago, dearie, that I never thought anyone would be interested. Besides, it turns to a page of my life that I always wanted to keep closed," sighed Aunt Selina.

The others, respecting her reticence, changed the subject. Uncle Ben smiled at her and made a comforting remark.

"Aunt Selina, when we finish our first year's work I am going to write a most interesting treatise and call it, 'Aunt Selina's Recipes for Youth.'"

"What do you mean?" she questioned.

"Just what I said," replied he, laughing. "Since you have taken an interest in this work you have grown years and years younger in looks and actions."

"Ben, you're making fun of me!" declared Aunt Selina.

"No, he's not, Aunt Selina; you really are looking fine," said Mrs. Talmage.

"Aunt Selina, isn't that what I prescribed for you at Happy Hills?" cried Ruth, exultantly.

"Yes, Fluffy, you did, and all the glory of this old conquest belongs to you," admitted Aunt Selina, patting the little girl upon the head.

Just then, an expressman drove up and spoke to Ike.

"Right to the front door—that is the B. B. & B. B. Publishing Company's shop," replied Ike with pride.

Uncle Ben signed for the safe delivery of a large flat box and the children crowded about to watch Ned and Jinks open it.

The box was marked "Glass" and "Handle with Care," so Ruth ran over to her uncle to inquire about it.

"Do you know what is in it?" asked she.

"I believe it is the box that failed to arrive with the other things," he replied, smiling.

"Do tell what it is," persisted Ruth.

"Why? You'll soon see, and it would spoil the surprise if I told you," said Uncle Ben.

Ruth skipped back to the circle formed about the case watching Ned take out the nails very carefully. Soon Jinks and he had the top boards off and then started to lift out the excelsior. This disposed of, a flat paper parcel was seen. Ned lifted it out, and seeing another one underneath, Jinks took it out also. Meredith and Don looked to see if there were any more, but excelsior seemed to fill the bottom of the box.

"Who has a knife?" asked Ned, not finding his own in his pocket.

"Here, here! hurry up and cut the twine!" shouted Don.

Ned took Don's knife with the broken blade and rusty handle, and smiled as he hacked away at the twine. After several vigorous efforts the string parted and several hands hurried to tear off the heavy paper.

A large picture of Benjamin Franklin, in a heavy oak frame, came out from its wrappings.

"Oh, isn't that fine!" cried several voices.

"Just our man, isn't he?" laughed Ned, pleased as could be.

"If I had a head like that I could invent machines, too," grumbled Don, feeling of his round little head in disgust.

While the others laughed at the remark, Meredith turned to the other parcel which Jinks held on the floor. The twine was soon cut and the papers taken off to reveal the strong features of Abraham Lincoln.

"Ho, that's best yet!" cried the boys who felt a deep admiration for the man whose picture stood before them.

Mr. Talmage and Mrs. Catlin came in during the exhibition of pictures, and the former said, "Just what you needed to complete the office appearance."

"Yes, indeed, Uncle Ben, and we thank you heaps and heaps!" exclaimed Ned, carrying his picture into the office.

Jinks followed and Don started to drag away the box that stood in the midst of the circle of children.

"Better see if there are any more!" called Uncle Ben, warningly.

Don dropped upon his knees and sought in the excelsior.

"Oh! here's some more and I almost threw them away!" he cried, as he dragged forth several small packages.

Upon being opened they proved to be a number of pictures of famous publishers and inventors of printing machinery.

"Won't they look just great, though!" came from several pleased boys.

"Why, come to think of it," said Mrs. Catlin, "my husband has a number of fine plates of machines and things of that kind. He was connected with the Vivla Machine Company, you know, and they manufactured presses and printers' tools. They might look well if added to this collection."

Everyone agreed that the more the better, and then Dot remembered that Mrs. Catlin had not seen the office and machinery.

"Walk right over and see how officey our office looks with your desk and table," she cried.

"And Mrs. Talmage sent in the chairs," added Betty.

"And my mother sent the carpet," added Norma, pointing to the green rug.

"And father says we may have his typewriting machine and table here when he's away from home," said Ruth, eagerly.

Mrs. Catlin praised the arrangement, and then asked to be shown the wonderful machinery that was to do such great work.

"Dear me, I heartily regret that I am not a little girl so that I might glory in this office and work," sighed Mrs. Catlin, coming back to the grown-ups.

"You don't have to be 'little,' Therese," laughed Mrs. Talmage. "You are one of this juvenile club as surely as if you were but ten. Why, you couldn't pass the place without coming in to ask for news."

"To tell the truth, I was going to the village, but I heard the happy shouts away out on the road and so I just wanted to know the cause," confessed Mrs. Catlin, smiling.

"I hope I may live a few years longer to see the results of this work," sighed Aunt Selina.

"You will, Flutey, you will!" cried Dot, enthusiastically. "What Uncle Ben told you was really truly true!"

"And just think, Mrs. Catlin, Flutey is going to write a long serious story for our magazine all about the war that she was in!" cried Betty Stevens.

The grown-ups smiled at Betty's idea of a "serial" story, but Mrs. Catlin looked surprised.

"Why, I never knew you were from the South?"

"I'm not, but I was visiting there during an exciting time, and Ben thinks my experience will make a readable story," replied Aunt Selina.

Mrs. Catlin looked at the aged lady with interest and said how much she would like to hear the tale. Suddenly, however, she slapped her gloved hands together and spoke.

"Now, what reason is there that I should not have some pages in this magazine?" she asked.

"Show us any good reason for taking our space and you may have it," teased Mrs. Talmage.

"Then put me down for another serial. I have a collection of short stories that Mr. Catlin wrote of his adventures in Alaska. It does not seem much like an adventure to go to Alaska nowadays, but forty years ago it was as if one were leaving this hemisphere for the unknown. Some of his tales are intensely interesting," said Mrs. Catlin.

"Why, friends, we are getting so many notable articles and writers together that we will soon have to raise the subscription price," laughed Mr. Talmage.

"That reminds me that we never thought of a charge. We ought to decide what subscription price we wish to ask," said Uncle Ben.

"Has anyone thought of that?" asked Mrs. Talmage, looking about at Blue Birds and Bobolinks.

Heads were shaken and Ned asked, "How can we tell how much to charge until we know what the magazine will cost?"

"I can help you figure that out, I think," offered Uncle Ben, sitting down at the table and taking paper and pencil from the drawer.

"Figure how much five hundred—or say, a thousand will cost," ventured Ned.

"A thousand! Where will you send them?" cried Jinks.

"I should say, figure on five thousand—or ten," said Uncle Ben, quietly.

"What!" gasped several boys.

"Yes, because ten thousand will not cost much more than three hundred."

"How's that?" asked the boys.

"Plates, linotype, lock-up, make-ready, will cost as much for one magazine as for one thousand. The only extra cost in getting out a quantity is in paper, ink and time. Now, I firmly believe that we will be able to send out ten thousand by the time you have them ready."

"Well, Uncle Ben, it sounds awful big to us, particularly as we haven't one single subscription, yet," said Ruth.

"Here—here, Fluff, don't let that bother you!" said Mr. Talmage, throwing a five-dollar bill upon the table.

"And here's for ten more!" laughed Aunt Selina, taking a twenty-dollar bill from her purse.

"Here's for five orphan asylums," added Mrs. Catlin placing a ten-dollar note on the table.

"How now, Fluff—where are your blues, eh?" teased Uncle Ben.

The children saw the crisp notes lying on the table and felt the joy of a successful start.

"From what Aunt Selina and Mrs. Talmage offered, it looks as if the price should be two dollars per year. Now, let us figure out how close we come to that," said Uncle Ben.

After counting up cost of production plus cost of mailing, it was decided that two dollars would be a just price, but there would be little profit unless more money could be gotten for advertising, or some saving made.

"Guess we've about completed our business for to-day," ventured Uncle Ben, as he noticed the children growing restless.

"Yes, let us go to the house and have some nice cool lemonade and cookies," suggested Mr. Talmage.

Eager looks turned toward Mrs. Talmage, and she laughed.

"We're always ready for something good to eat, father, so you show us the way to the picnic."

It took but a few moments for the children to reach the wide veranda and settle down comfortably until the maids brought out the refreshments.

"A day's work always ought to finish like this," mused Don, munching a delicious piece of cake.



CHAPTER VIII

AUNT SELINA'S CIVIL WAR STORY

The children thoroughly enjoyed their refreshments. Aunt Selina did not care for any, so she sat smiling as she watched them.

"As long as Flutey isn't busy, wouldn't it be nice to have her tell us a teeny-weeny bit of that war story?" ventured Dot Starr.

"Oh, yes! Please do! Flutey, do tell!" came from various directions.

"Why, that would be lovely, Aunt Selina, if you will," added Mrs. Talmage.

Thus besieged, Aunt Selina decided to yield to the children.

"Let me see," she began. "I must have been about eighteen when my dearest friend, Rebecca Crudup, invited me to spend Easter Holidays at her Southern home. We had been chums from the moment we met at Miss Wyland's Seminary for Young Ladies, and the Christmas before the time I just mentioned, Rebecca had visited my home at Happy Hills. Mother liked Rebecca immensely, but she feared the fighting in the South might create trouble for me if I went with Becky. We reassured her, however, and an unwilling consent was written from home.

"A week before the vacation began, Becky received a letter asking her to start home as soon as she received the word, as important matters in the family had to be looked after.

"As this would give us an extra week's holiday we hailed the letter with joy. The girls stood about enviously watching us pack our carpetbags and Rebecca's trunk. I packed many of my things in her trunk to save the trouble of transporting two to Tennessee. We left the next morning 'midst shouts reminding us to be sure to be on hand when school re-opened.

"We enjoyed the journey during the first part of the way, but, as the train sped on, the country showed signs of the desolation wrought by war, and we sobered from our happy laughter to serious contemplation.

"The nearer to Nashville that we came, the deeper the evidence that war was an awful thing. We saw burned homes, devastated land and forlorn-looking families as we passed by.

"Rebecca's father met us at the station in Nashville and welcomed me with a surprised manner. Turning to his daughter, he spoke in a serious tone.

"'We will endeavor to give your friend an enjoyable visit, daughter, but it doesn't seem promisin'. Evidently you did not receive our telegram?'

"'Only this letter, father,' replied Becky, showing him the last letter received by her.

"'Hum! well, we will live up to our reputation, Miss Selina, and be the true Southern hosts.'

"As we came out of the station and walked toward the carriage-posts, Rebecca looked about for the family equipage.

"Mr. Crudup led us toward a great spring wagon which was drawn by two raw-boned farm horses. An old darky sat on the front seat.

"'Why, father! Surely we are not going home in this!' cried Rebecca with deep chagrin.

"'Sorry, daughter, but it must be so,' returned her father in a grieved voice. 'You will find many changes here since the fightin' began.'

"'Selina, I'm awful sorry you have to ride this way, and I can't understand why it is. Father seems to know,' said Becky, in an apologetic tone.

"'I don't mind, Becky. Really and truly, I don't. I love the country so, that I would just as soon ride a plow if we had to, to get to your home.'

"'Well, I'm glad your little friend is so sensible, Rebecca,' commended Mr. Crudup.

"We climbed into the back seat after the baggage had been stowed away, and the horses started off.

"'Father, why didn't you drive Jerry and Jim?' asked Rebecca, wonderingly.

"'Becky, your brothers, I trust, are astride them, showin' the Yankees how to fight!'

"'Daddy!' cried Rebecca in dismay.

"Mr. Crudup looked dreadfully sorry, but said nothing.

"'Daddy, have Newell and Ed left home?'

"'Yes, child. And I'm mighty sorry to say that most of your friends and cousins are with them. Some will nevah return—but we are prayin' constant, that our boys will win honahs for the South—and come home to enjoy them.'

"Becky and I sat as stiff as sticks as we realized what this meant.

"'Still, I don't see why some of our carriage horses couldn't have come for us!' insisted Rebecca.

"'The horses have been used by some of the boys who had none, and the spring wagon has to come in often with supplies for the troops. This happened to be one of the days. So mothaw thought her girl would not mind, particularly as we believed you received the telegram,' explained Mr. Crudup.

"I was almost sorry I had come, so unexpected did my appearance seem to be, but Becky cheered up when she saw me grow uncomfortable, and tried to amuse me by pointing out neighboring plantations.

"As we drove about a bend in the road, Rebecca's beautiful old home could be seen situated upon a knoll that commanded a view of the surrounding country. We entered the grounds by a road that ran through a dense wood, and then ascended gradually until we reached the porte-cochere. The house itself, large, solid and in perfect condition, was a landmark from every point of view round-about.

"Mrs. Crudup and her two older daughters welcomed me to their home and made me feel more at ease. Rebecca, being the youngest member of the family, was petted and made much of, and I came in for my share of it for being her best friend.

"After our baggage was placed in our rooms, we were escorted upstairs and left to prepare for dinner, which was generally at noon, but had been delayed for Rebecca's arrival.

"My, but that was a delicious dinner! I can almost taste the tender chicken with corn waffles, hot and crisp, this minute!

"Not a word had been said about the reason of calling Rebecca home a week earlier than usual. Toward evening, however, vehicles of all descriptions drove to the side yard and were left to the care of the negro servants. As the neighbors came to the house they went directly to a large room which had been closed and locked since our arrival, until now. Rebecca and I were invited to join the sewing meeting, but neither of us liked sewing, and we had planned to visit the horses before it grew too dark. However, I saw heaps of flannel garments, half-finished socks on knitting needles, warm caps, and clothes of all kinds being made up for the Confederate soldiers.

"Becky and I strolled down toward the stables, but it was too dark to inspect the thoroughbreds I had heard so much about, so we returned to the house.

"As we passed the great barn we saw men busily engaged in packing all kinds of produce and supplies in long hemp sacks to be carted to Nashville the following day. In the sewing room the ladies were still plying needles that flashed in and out as if speed would save a life.

"At eight o'clock a hot supper was served, and at nine the neighbors left for their homes.

"That night, after we retired to our rooms, Rebecca came into my room for a cozy chat. She looked very pretty as she sat on the corner of the bed hugging her knees up in her arms.

"'Selina, it's a shame you are dragged into such a vacation! I declare, had I known that all of the boys were away, nothing would have tempted me to bring you. Even the girls are too busy sewing for their sweethearts to bother with parties or sociables,' pouted Rebecca.

"'I came to visit you—not to see the boys or go to parties, and I want you to believe that I don't mind a bit having you all to myself,' I said.

"'You're a good little mouse to say that, but, all the same, I will trot you all over the country on our saddle horses. You will have plenty of fresh air, and that is what Miss Wyland said you needed for your paleness,' replied Becky.

"Rebecca kissed me good-night, but I felt ill at ease in that Southern home for being one of the 'detested Yankees.' Never, by word or sign, was such a thought given out, but I felt that everyone would have been more at ease had I never come.

"Every other afternoon Mr. Crudup went to Nashville with a load of bags for the commissary department. One afternoon, about a week after our arrival, he came back from the city earlier than usual and we noticed a troubled look on his face.

"'How now, father?' asked sweet Mrs. Crudup.

"'Reports in Nashville say that the fighting is turned toward this part of the country,' he said.

"'Someone has to bear the burden—perhaps the Lord has selected us to carry a share,' returned Mrs. Crudup, reverently.

"'The one thing that worries me is that our place is well known in this part of the country, and our fertile acres are known to produce the finest edibles. Then, too, the fact that we raise some of the best-bred horses in Tennessee may cause the Yanks to come down on us at any time and raid the stables. In that case, they will carry off everything—not even a plow-horse will be left.'

"'Father, our boys have had all they could use for this conflict, and wouldn't it be bettah to ship our horses to Nashville fo' the army to use?' asked Mrs. Crudup.

"'I would rather see every head of cattle dead than in the hands of a Yankee!' cried Sally Crudup, bitterly, for her sweetheart had been killed in a battle a few weeks previous.

"'Sally, Sally! let no bittehness feed your sorrow!' reproved the gentle mother, patting me upon the back as if in apology for her daughter's breach of etiquette.

"Mr. and Mrs. Crudup walked away in private converse, and Becky and I started for the paddocks which I had not yet visited.

"'Selina, I'm plannin' a desperate deed!' said Becky, in a whisper, as we passed down the shady lane that led to the stables and pastures.

"I looked at her in surprise, for her tone was shaky.

"'I have not introduced you to Imp. Imp is the most valuable horse on the place and would bring a high price in Nashville. My only relief is that no one can ride him, manage, or harness him but Tim and me. When Imp was born Tim was there, and when Imp's mother died soon after his birth, she turned her eyes on Tim and seemed to ask him to look after her baby. I got there just as she turned back her head and saw me. I took her head upon my lap and promised that I would adopt her boy, and I always felt that she knew what I said and died happier for it. From that minute, I took charge of Imp and fed him on a bottle until he could eat alone. Tim and I have had sole charge of his training, but he is surely an Imp when anyone else tries to come near him.' Becky almost wept as she told me the story of the poor mother-mare.

"'Imp understands everything one says to him, but he can't talk; however, his eyes tell you what he wishes to say! Now, if any stranger should raid the stables and spy Imp, they would certainly try to steal him first, for he is the finest thoroughbred that ever stepped over Tennessee soil! But, he will bite, and kick, and bolt with anyone who dares to trifle with him. Then do you know what will happen? They'll either put a bullet through his heart, or hitch him to an army ambulance, which will break his heart just the same.'

"Rebecca walked along in silence after that, until we reached a stile that divided the house lands from the pastures.

"'Selina, there's only one thing to do—take him away and hide him until this war is over. From what I gather from the servants about the place, this plantation is in a straight line for Nashville, the point the Yankees are making for. So, the sooner Imp is hidden the better!'

"'Becky,' asked I, in alarm, 'will these slaves desert or sell you out to the Yankees?'

"'Mercy, no, Selina! They are like children to us. It may be that one or two would like the novelty of going North, but they would soon be squelched if it was found out. Why, father and mother treat their old slaves like their family—asking advice of Tim, or Martha the housekeeper, as the case might be. As for our old mammy—and the cook—gracious, Selina! I'd die for either one of them, and so would any one of us, and they know it. They'd stick to us even if we lost this war—which we won't!' cried Rebecca.

"I felt somewhat piqued, but said nothing, for I was a guest of Rebecca's. She sensed that she had said something difficult to forget, and hugged me laughingly.

"'You wouldn't give a fig for a friend that could hope anything but success for her country, would you?' she asked.

"I made no reply, and she continued in a low voice.

"'Selina, I'm going to take you into a secret that no one but Tim and father knows about. Father hasn't an idea that I know about it, and Tim won't tell him that I know. I found it myself years ago, and I always go there when I want to be all alone. I have driven Imp right through and he knows the cave and has no fear of the water, now.'

"I listened in surprise to the words but knew nothing of what she meant.

"After we had walked about a mile down the lane, Becky turned off across the field. We came to a lovely little patch of woods where I could hear the roar of a rushing stream. Rebecca led me by crooked paths until we came to the brink of this torrent where it tumbled over a ledge of rock about twenty feet high, and made a most beautiful waterfall. The current was so swift above the falls that the water shot over making an arch as it fell. The steep banks at either side were mossy and tall ferns almost covered them.

"Rebecca led me straight to the falls. I hesitated as I saw her take a step toward the back-rock under the falls and suddenly disappear in the spray, calling upon me to follow.

"I was sure she knew what she was doing, so I too went headlong into the spray to find myself behind the arched falls on a huge flat rock which lay before a deep crevice opening straight into the cliff. Not a drop of water penetrated here, but the spray made a thick curtain between the cave and the outer world.

"Rebecca led me by the hand along a tunnel, and, after we had gone about twenty feet, it opened into a high-vaulted cavern. Soon Rebecca found the lantern and lighted it. I looked about in surprise; the place was quite comfortably furnished with a chair, a rough table and a mattress with bedding upon it.

"'I made Tim carry these things over here from the store-room and made him swear never to tell father. Tim is almost seventy years old and he believes in an oath as firmly as he does in Heaven. As far as I know, Tim and Daddy are the only ones beside myself who know of this cave. The reason I am bringing you here—a Yankee, too—is because I feel in my bones that you will have to help me in some danger or need. Here is where Imp is going to be hidden and I shall have to see if I can get him to make friends with you, for you may have to claim him some day and take him North with you.'

"'Oh, Becky, don't talk like this! You frighten me! I wish you were all at Happy Hills with me where you would be safe.'

"'Do you think that one of us would seek another safer home while we are needed here?' asked Rebecca, sternly.

"I made no reply and Rebecca carried the lantern ahead, bidding me follow her out. We reached the extreme end of the cave, when Rebecca handed me the lantern to hold down close to some lichen. I did so and found that the mass of roots and moss that hung there swayed slowly back and forth in a current of air. This, then, was the cause of the cave being so well ventilated. Becky stooped, pushed aside the mossy curtain and crawled into a small tunnel, taking the lantern from me after she had entered.

"I followed close behind, upon hands and knees, through an opening the size of a bushel basket. Finally, we reached a wider opening where we could stand upon our feet again. We crept through this queer tunnel for a long time and then I felt that we were ascending gradually and that the air was growing purer. In a few moments more, we emerged from another narrow crevice hidden under the gnarled roots of a live-oak. Moss, lichen and fern covered this opening so completely that no one would have dreamed there was an entrance there to a secret cave.

"We were in a grassy dell hemmed in by a thin ribbon of woods which ended in a grove of tall pines upon a knoll.

"Rebecca extinguished the light and led me toward this grove. She selected an old veteran pine and climbed up into its wide branches until a comfortable notch was reached. I did likewise. As we sat there admiring the wonderful view of distant mountains, Rebecca clutched my arm, and pointed with one hand toward the low range of mountains about fifty miles away.

"I looked and saw a heavy cloud of smoke hanging low over the crests. At intervals we heard the echo of a 'boom.'

"'Oh, Selina, there's no time to lose, now! The fighting is so near that we can hear the cannon over the mountain!'

"'What shall we do?' I cried helplessly.

"'Do!' almost screamed Rebecca, as she tore her clothes on the pine boughs in her rapid descent. 'Why, I'll run Imp down to the cave, while you race to the house and tell Timothy the news. Order him to bring oats, bedding, blankets, and whatever Imp might need for a long siege. Tell him you know the secret and will help me take care of Imp. Then, on to the house, warning the negroes as you go, and tell the folks at the house. If they ask how we know, answer that we were on the ridge and saw it. Don't tell them that we were in the pine tree!'

"Calling these hurried directions as she went, Becky ran back through the glade until we reached the woods near the lane. She pointed toward the house, which could be seen in the distant haze, then ran for the shed where Imp was kept.

"I did as I was ordered, wondering all the way why I was placed in such an undesirable position—a Northerner plotting, as it were, against my own people. I cared little about the war at that time, for I knew nothing of war or its toll.

"However, I reached the outer buildings where the slaves lived and my news acted like an electric current upon the inmates. Immediately they ran in different directions, seemingly bent upon doing a part of a work that had been carefully planned and arranged. I found out later, that such was the case. The older slaves, who were trusted implicitly, set to work burying (as I supposed) whatever fruit, vegetables, smoked meats, and other edibles they could find—in fact, everything stored in cellars or store-rooms.

"I was curious to see how they could prevent the articles from coming in contact with the soil, and found that a chain of bricked cellars had been built a short time before, and the bushes and weeds carefully replaced on the dirt that covered the roofs. A door, opening into the first of the chain of cellars, was made in a steep bank of earth. It was merely a large hole in the ground covered with a flat stone that turned upon a pivot. About this spot the soil and grass had been very cleverly arranged to conceal any sign of what lay beneath.

"By afternoon not a piece of extra linen, bedding, or silver could be found about the house. The jewelry, valuable bits of art and pictures, heirlooms and a valuable library, had disappeared as if by magic. I knew it had all been placed in some safe place and felt relieved at the knowledge.

"I wandered about feeling lonesome for Rebecca and wishing I might assist Tim who seemed busy in some undertaking. I watched him tie down a canvas covering over a loaded cart and caught his glance, which seemed to beckon me. I walked over to the mule's side and patted its head while Tim spoke.

"'Miss Becky, she say you'se come wif me. I'se got'ter take dis load down to der paddock!' Tim looked about as he spoke and winked at me knowingly.

"I walked beside him as he drove the mule along the lane. The cart seemed laden and the mule walked slowly, but we reached the wall that divided the gardens from the farm, and then Tim made the beast go as fast as possible, all the while looking covertly about for a run-away negro or a Yankee scout.

"I suspected where we were going, and, sure enough! As we reached the woods by the lane, Rebecca called softly, 'No further, Tim!' and came out with several huge market baskets.

"Tim tied the mule to a tree by the roadside and removed the canvas covering. There was everything one would need for light housekeeping for several weeks. Besides the food and clothing, there were bandages, medicine, bedding, lanterns, an oil-stove, dishes, and numerous other necessities. These were piled in the baskets and carried to the cave where they were placed in crannies for some future emergency.

"'Imp, I want you to be introduced to my best friend,' said Rebecca, after we had brought in our first basket.

"I heard a whinny and looked about in the gloom.

"Rebecca went over to a corner near the spot whence fresh air entered the cavern, and held the lantern up for me to see her pet.

"I stood making friendly advances to the beauty and, to Becky's amazement, he never moved an inch, but wrinkled his nose for sugar.

"'Witch! that is what you are!' laughed Becky, as Imp poked his nose under my arm. 'I have never known him to do such a thing.'

"Imp stood listening to his mistress as if he thoroughly understood the situation.

"I turned to tell Rebecca what a beauty he was, and he deliberately poked his nose out against my face.

"After all the supplies were stacked away, Rebecca slipped the halter over Imp's head and led him to a ring cemented in the solid rock.

"'Now, Imp, you will have to be good and not whinny or make a sound. I know what is good for you, and you must do just as I tell you, or a bad Yankee soldier will catch you and then you will see!' warned Rebecca, shaking her finger at him.

"The horse stood looking at her as if striving to understand what that strange word 'Yankee' meant; then he threw up his head and shook it defiantly.

"We said good-by to Imp and returned to the cart where Tim waited. We sent Tim to the barns with the mule and we went back to the house.

"That was such a busy day that everyone felt weary and glad when the sun showed its slanting rays over the trees. It must have been about four o'clock when sounds of approaching cavalry reached the house. It was the company Newell and his brother had formed a few months before. They had been driven over the mountainside and decided to spend the night in hiding at home.

"The sewing room was filled with neighbors whose boys were members of the company, so you can imagine the joy of seeing them again.

"The boys were covered with mire halfway to the waist, and their horses looked as if they must drop where they stood. Many of the soldiers were hatless, powder smirched, and, oh, so tired!

"Rebecca took me to her room and locked the door.

"'Selina, did you see that tall dark officer—the one that kept smiling at us? Well, he is my best friend, and I want you to fall in love with him. He knows all about you and I showed him your picture a long time ago, so he knows you quite well, you see.'

"I laughed merrily at Becky's match-making.

"'Oh,' she sighed, as her thought rushed to something else. 'Wasn't it just like Providence that we got Imp and all of those supplies hidden away in time?'

"'Yes, but it is not necessary with the rebels in command of the place,' I said, using the term 'rebel' quite unconsciously, for the first time.

"Rebecca noticed it, too, but said nothing at the time.

"'Well, I showed you just how to get in and out of that cave in case you are the only one who can take care of Imp. One never knows what may happen, but you, being my guest, are safe with our friends, and, being a Yankee, will be taken care of in case the enemy take the place. But, remember, if Imp is to be taken from me, I would rather you had him than anyone on earth—and you must assert your ownership if necessary to take him home with you.'

"That was a great reunion, that dinner! Besides all of the young soldiers, their families were there, listening to their account of the struggle.

"The happy families had finished dinner and were about to have coffee when a colored boy raced up the steps of the piazza. His face was gray with fear as he gasped, 'De Yanks am comin'—oh, dey am comin' pell mell foh dis house! oh, Lud, Lud!'

"'Tell all the folks, Jeremiah, quick!' shouted Becky, as she sprang forward to warn her friends.

"'The horses—quick, Tim! The horses—rush them to the house!' yelled Newell, as he grabbed his gun and threw on his cap.

"'Mother, good-by,' cried Ed, as he caught a kiss from her lips, and Newell hurriedly did the same.

"The next minute all was confusion as the soldier boys jumped into the saddle, while still buckling on knapsacks and ammunition belts.

"Five minutes after Jeremiah had given the alarm, the boys were lost in a cloud of dust galloping on the way to Nashville. But not soon enough!"

Here, Aunt Selina leaned back in her chair and looked away over the lawns as if she saw again the scurrying horses racing for dear life in one direction, while from the opposite direction she saw another picture she had not yet mentioned.

"If you are wearied, Aunt Selina, we will postpone the story for another day," suggested Mrs. Talmage.

"Oh, no! please don't!" begged the excited children.

"Oh, Flutey, I simply couldn't wait until to-morrow to find out what happened," cried Ruth, beseechingly.

Aunt Selina smiled at the children, and Uncle Ben added: "They are right! I don't want to wait either!"

"Really! is it as good as that?"

"Good! I should say it is! It's a big 'seller' if it was only in a book!" returned Uncle Ben.

"Well, then, after the magazine is done with it suppose we sell it to a publisher for the benefit of the children," ventured Aunt Selina, eagerly.

"Fine idea! We will try it!" said Uncle Ben.

Aunt Selina moved her chair to keep the rays of the setting sun from her eyes, and then continued with her story.



CHAPTER IX

HOW THE YANKEES TOOK POSSESSION

"I think the rest of this story is the most interesting of all," murmured Aunt Selina, as she permitted her memory to roam in years long gone.

The children waited patiently for Aunt Selina to begin and, after a short moment, she sat up erect, looking fearfully out over the lawn, and spoke hurriedly.

"Right there before our very eyes we saw the Yankee regiment tear down the lane and swerve toward the road just taken by the Southern boys. They were still to be seen making for the woods just over the slope of the hill toward Nashville.

"We heard the captain shout, 'Halt! Aim! Fire!' and, as a volley rang out, many of the ladies on the piazza screamed or fainted, while Rebecca and I stood petrified at the result of that happy dinner.

"Almost at the same time the Yankees fired there came the rattle of musketry from the woods which the boys had reached.

"From the veranda I saw several of the Yankees' horses leap up and two of them rolled over on the ground. One man threw up his hands, fell over on his horse's neck, and dropped his gun. The horse, frightened, started galloping directly toward the house. Tim, who was coming down the side steps, ran forward and caught hold of the bridle. Mr. Crudup and some of his friends lifted the young soldier from the saddle and carefully carried him up the piazza steps, and placed him on the floor.

"While much of my attention was distracted by this incident, the company of Yankees spurred their horses on toward the patch of woods where the Southerners were hidden.

"The firing continued for half an hour, while everyone at the house waited, fearing the worst and hoping against hope that their boys had gotten away to Nashville.

"Rebecca's two brothers, cousins and old friends were all in that handful of men, and naturally those gathered at the house would wait until the outcome of the skirmish could be known.

"They had not long to wait, for, just as twilight deepened into night, the negroes came in with the report that all of the boys had been captured and were being taken as prisoners to the old school-house. In another half-hour the officers rode up to the door, followed by orderlies and an ambulance corps bringing in the wounded. Slaves were dispatched here and there for hot water, bandages, beds, bedding and medicine. We all hastened to prepare a place for those who needed our care and attention so sorely.

"As the wounded were carried up the steps and past the neighbors, who stood by watching for their own, Rebecca's mother saw her youngest boy lying unconscious with his face white as death and his hair matted with blood that oozed from a wound in his neck. She almost fainted, but Rebecca held her firm, saying, 'Mother, now is the time to brace up and take care of Newell that he may soon recover.'

"Of the Yankees, one was killed outright and five badly wounded, while the Southern boys sustained more serious injuries. Two were killed and nine wounded. The house was immediately turned into a hospital, both sides receiving the same attention.

"The officers were very considerate but insisted upon having their rights observed. When it was found that some foraging parties were in the neighborhood, the captain sent an orderly to say that the Crudup Plantation was well supplied. The Yankees, receiving the message, rode over, took what was needed, food, cattle and horses, and went away.

"Mr. Crudup spared his family the harrowing details of the raid, but looked upon it as the fortune of war and thanked heaven that so much of his property was safely buried.

"When the store-rooms, linen-presses, blanket-trunks, and cellars were found almost empty, the officer in charged looked surprised and wondered aloud.

"'Most unusual to find so large an establishment short of all supplies, and a retinue of servants to feed, to say nothing of the droves of neighbors always coming in for supper.'

"Mr. Crudup overheard the soliloquy and replied courteously.

"'Sir, do not forget that your company is not the first to stop here and demand my hospitality. Naturally, we would lavish our all upon our own men, you know.'

"The officers were very polite and interesting young men, but Rebecca and I had to go about the plantation very warily, for we never knew when we might be spied upon. Imp had to be cared for daily, so we found plenty of amusement in eluding the Yankees.

"The youngest of the officers was a handsome boy and it was not long before we became very friendly. When he learned that I was a Yankee and how I happened to be South, he insisted upon my returning home at once, saying that the neighborhood about Nashville soon would be an impossible place to live.

"When he found that my home was at Happy Hills he was greatly pleased.

"'Why, I have called at your home many times; my sister and yours are school friends.' He described his home and how his sister looked when she came to visit us, and I faintly recalled seeing him with the others who were some years my senior.

"From that day he became the sworn ally of Rebecca and myself. He understood there was a secret between us and often managed to screen us when we left the house to creep to the cavern to look after Imp.

"The wounded were getting along beautifully, and nothing exciting had occurred for a fortnight. Foraging parties that stopped at the house and found Yankees in possession moved on. It seemed more like a house-party.

"But a change soon took place.

"It was afterward learned that Ed Crudup escaped during the transfer of the prisoners from the school-house to the army; he found out from some of the Crudup slaves that the Yankees who shot his brother and imprisoned himself were holding the premises until further orders from Headquarters. So he raised a small company at Nashville and drilled them for a few days, planning to surprise the men at the house and take them prisoners.

"One day, while some of the Yankees were out foraging, Ed and his men came upon them suddenly and a skirmish ensued.

"Ed was shot down and so was our young officer who was in command of the foragers that day. The others fought like madmen, hand to hand, until the men at the house, hearing the shots, ran out to their assistance.

"The Southerners, outnumbered, took flight, but were pursued and captured.

"The two men, Ed and Vernon, lay still as death in the tall grass, and no one missed them at the time of the pursuit.

"Tim, however, on his way to water Imp, found his young master shot through the heart, and the young Yankee unconscious. In his faithful loyalty to the family, he decided to make a prisoner of the Yankee, so he dragged Vernon over to the waterfall, carried him through the spray, and laid him down on the mattress in the cave. The cold water which had fallen upon Vernon's face had partially revived him, and he moaned as if in pain.

"Tim lighted the lantern and examined him. He found a clean bullet hole in his chest, but very little bleeding. He decided the best thing to do would be to notify the master. So, after attending to Imp, he crept out of the cave and went over to the remains of the young master. He managed to carry him until he met some of the slaves, then had them improvise a stretcher to carry the body to the house.

"There was great sorrow in the household, and his death changed the attitude of the Crudups toward the Yankee officers.

"When it was found that young Vernon was missing, with no trace of him anywhere, it was thought that he had been taken captive by a few of the Confederates who got away. Rebecca and I felt dreadfully lonesome after our friend was missing, and I wished, for the first time since I came South, that I could go home.

"Then one morning, Rebecca and I decided to go through the hole in the live-oak tree and crawl to the cave to see Imp. We had not dared to visit him for some days, as a Yankee sentry was stationed in the woods by the waterfall.

"Rebecca hid a small lantern under her cloak and we strolled unconcernedly down the lane toward the dell. We looked carefully about to make sure no spies were watching, and in another minute both of us disappeared. We groped along until we reached the opening into the cave and as we crawled out near Imp's bed, he greeted us with a joyful whinny. Rebecca ran over and placed her hand over his mouth, so she did not see the apparition that stared at me from the mattress. Had I held the lantern I would have dropped it. As it was, I almost dropped myself, so frightened was I.

"I clutched Rebecca's arm and she turned about to see what ailed me. In a second she recognized Vernon and ran over with the lantern. As he could not tell us how he came there, but confided that Tim and Mr. Crudup came daily to attend to him, we learned that they knew of his whereabouts. Rebecca snapped her teeth close and her eyes blazed at the thought of her father keeping this man a prisoner in such a suffocating place.

"While we were there, Tim and Mr. Crudup crept through the tunnel and found us talking to the sick man.

"'Becky, better leave this business to us,' suggested Mr. Crudup.

"'Father, how could you keep this man in such a place?' cried Rebecca, unguardedly.

"'Ssh!' warned Tim, apprehensively.

"Mr. Crudup told Rebecca how Tim had carried Vernon here to square accounts for Ed's death; how he had shown Tim the folly of the deed, and that being done, it had to be made the best of, or disclose the secret of the cave. Tim was so repentant that he agreed to remain in the cave and nurse the prisoner.

"After our discovery, Rebecca spent several hours with Vernon each day reading or talking to him, while Imp began to show his fondness for Vernon in every way a horse can.

"Matters at the house became troublesome, for the larder was empty, and there was no way to get at the great store-rooms dug out of the ground without letting the Yankees into the secret.

"Tim had been very meek since he found the serious blunder he had made with Vernon, and he was eager to make amends in any way.

"From the time that Tim heard of the threatened famine he was seldom seen about the place. Now and then, one of the family would meet him coming from the basement with his face and hands smeared with black, but he never confided in anyone as to his work or whereabouts, and being an aged favored man, Mr. Crudup never questioned him.

"One morning the cook entered the room where the family was gathered and announced: 'There ain't no aigs fer brekfus.'

"'Have plain ham or bacon,' suggested Mrs. Crudup.

"'De ham an' bacon done all et up, too,' said cook.

"Mrs. Crudup looked deeply concerned, but said: 'Then we'll have just coffee and muffins.'

"'Done used all de flour yistiddy—not a smitch lef'.'

"Here, indeed, was a quandary! Nothing to eat!

"This was Tim's opportunity.

"He came in, bowed with old hat in his hand, and turned to the cook with the request, 'You please 'scuse yo-se'f fum de room whiles I conflab wid de missus?'

"Cook tossed her head and went out, followed by everyone except Mr. and Mrs. Crudup.

"Tim turned his hat about in his hands for a time and then looked up smilingly and said: 'I done squared myself wid you all fer makin' dat blunner 'bout the Yank. I done gone and dug a tunnel fru fum de coal cellah to the fust storehouse on de fiel'. I fixed a doh to the cellar an' heah's de key to de padlock.'

"'You what!' exclaimed Mr. Crudup, in amazement.

"'Yas'm, das whad I did!' said Tim.

"Mr. Crudup threw back his head and laughed while he slapped Tim on the back and said, 'Tim, it will take more than a company of Yankees to starve us out while you are about!'

"But Mrs. Crudup took Tim's hand and thanked him with tears in her eyes.

"The supply question was easily solved after that. No one but Tim knew where the tunnel was, for Mr. Crudup never allowed anyone to be about when the old servant started his daily trip to the underground store-rooms. Oftentimes, the officers expressed their wonder as to how Southern cooks could manage the way they did, with so little on hand to cook with. If they suspected the truth they never hinted at it.

"The secret of Vernon's prison had been kept, and several weeks after the fight that disabled him, his company was ordered to join the main army. The moment the place was entirely freed from the Yankees, Mr. Crudup ordered one of the guest-rooms prepared, and, to the surprise of Mrs. Crudup, told her he had a prisoner to bring in. That night Vernon was blindfolded, placed upon a stretcher, and taken to the house.

"As soon as he could sit up and come down upon the veranda, we wondered what to do with him. He was our prisoner but we had no use for him. Everyone liked him and disliked sending him to the dirty barrack-jail in Nashville.

"Suddenly Rebecca was inspired with a brilliant plan.

"When the Yankee officers left the place they took the convalescent prisoners with them. Now Rebecca suggested that negotiations be started to exchange Vernon for Newell.

"Mr. Crudup immediately sent Tim to Nashville to see if this could be done, and friends there promised to attend to it without delay. Consequently, in a few days, a number of soldiers from Nashville rode to the Crudup house and carried away the prisoner, giving Mrs. Crudup the slip of paper that stated that Newell's freedom would be granted upon the return of Vernon.

"We all felt sorry about losing Vernon, but he promised to visit me at Happy Hills when the war was over."

Aunt Selina stopped and the children began plying questions.

"Aunt Selina, what became of Imp?" asked Dot.

"We kept him in the cave for a few days more, and then, one morning, the negroes all turned green with fear when they saw Rebecca riding Imp down the road from the paddock, for they believed Imp to have been taken with the other horses, and were sure that this was a ghost of the real Imp." And Aunt Selina laughed as she recalled Rebecca's mad ride down the lane and the high wall Imp vaulted before he stopped stock still in front of the quaking, superstitious slaves.

"Did Newell come back home?" asked Betty, whose sympathy was all for the mother who lost one boy and then had the other one taken prisoner.

"We received word of his transfer from the Yankee army to his own. He went into active service again and fought all through the rest of the war. He won many honors for bravery before the Confederate Army was disbanded."

"Do you know what became of him afterwards?" asked Don, interested in such a fighter.

"He married and settled out West upon a large ranch. Now and then Rebecca's daughter has a letter from him, giving news of his children or the grandchildren."

"Oh, then, Rebecca married too. Did you know who it was?" asked several curious voices.

"Yes," smiled Aunt Selina. "She married the very beau she had selected for me."

"I am so anxious to know if that fine old house is still there and if we could find the cave and underground store-rooms if we ever went there?" asked Norma.

"No, dear; the beautiful old mansion was entirely destroyed by fire started from a shell during the time the battle line closed about Nashville. I was not there at the time, but Rebecca wrote and told me of the dreadful scenes. Almost every family for miles about was left homeless and destitute. The Pines, Rebecca's home, stood as long as any and sheltered every homeless Southerner round about."

"I guess Rebecca liked to remember that, didn't she?" said Ruth.

"Yes, indeed, Fluff."

"Aunt Selina, you didn't tell us what became of Imp and Rebecca that day she rode up to the house," reminded Ned.

"Rebecca laughed at the servants' fear and rode Imp over to the steps of the piazza. We stood watching her as she jumped off and led Imp right up to the rail. 'Lady,' said she to me, 'this horse just told me that he was going North on a little visit. As there is no one here but you who can take him there, I believe he intends taking you home.' Although Rebecca's eyes filled with tears and her voice trembled, we all laughed and made a great fuss over Imp.

"Later, she confided to me that she had entrusted Vernon with the request to secure a passport for Selina Talmage and her horse, Imp, going home to Happy Hills, Pennsylvania. The passport came that day in a letter for Rebecca explaining how I was to go and to whom I was to entrust myself. A note for me was inclosed in the letter, and I read it with a smile. Vernon said he would demand payment for the favor given me as soon as he reached Happy Hills. Rebecca teased me about that note and said that she knew what the favor would be, for Vernon was in love with me. I pooh-poohed the suggestion but felt very glad to pack my clothes for home. In a few days word came that I was to ride to a certain town where an escort would meet me and conduct me to the nearest railroad. And so Imp and I went home."

"And now tell us, Aunt Selina, did Vernon come home and ask that favor?" wondered Norma, interested in a love-story.

"Oh, yes! He had leave of absence for several months to fully recover from the wound that had partially punctured a lung. He used to ride over to Happy Hills every day, and I tell you we missed him when he returned to his regiment."

"Where is he now, Aunt Selina?" asked Ruth.

"Gone—his name is carved on the monument at Washington for bravery in the Battle of Bull Run," whispered Aunt Selina.

"Oh, oh, Aunt Selina! Is he the same one you told me about last spring?" gasped Ruth.

Aunt Selina dabbed her tear-moistened eyes and tried to smile as she said, "The same, Honey."

"What's that—tell us, Aunt Selina; we never heard about it," cried several children.

"Well, Vernon came back North about a year after his leave of absence expired with important letters for a general in Philadelphia. After delivering the letters he was to have two days' leave in which to go home and see his folks. He rode over to our house one evening and asked my father and mother if he might pay court to me when the war was over. My parents were delighted, for they knew him and liked him. Vernon and I walked out to the very summer house that Ruth was in when she thought of the farm plan, and there he told me what he had said to my parents. He would not bind me, for he said he might never come back. But I said it would make no difference to me—if he never returned I would wait just the same. We exchanged rings—one which had been given me for my birthday and one he had received on his twenty-first birthday. When he left that night mother gave him a paper, but I never knew what was in it until later. When news of his bravery and death came home, the letter contained a ring and a small daguerreotype picture of me. Then mother said he had asked for it the night he went away."

"Oh, Aunt Selina, how lovely of you!" cried several little girls as they crowded about the old lady and hugged her.

"Rebecca did not return to school again, but as soon as the war was over we wrote and invited Mr. and Mrs. Crudup to bring Rebecca North to visit us. The elders were too heart-sore to come to a country they blamed for all their losses, but Rebecca came and stayed a long time."



CHAPTER X

BEGINNING TO SPELL SUCCESS

Another nest of Blue Birds had been formed under Mrs. Catlin's supervision, and these little girls were chosen to act as agents to secure subscriptions for the forthcoming magazine. They were also permitted to donate short stories or pictures to the magazine and, being so young a branch of the first Nest, felt this was a special privilege.

Aunt Selina had written her interesting Civil War story and had it ready for Uncle Ben, but Mrs. Catlin was still busy trying to arrange her chapters so they would make a good serial.

The Blue Birds had written their pages over and over, and finally Mrs. Talmage said they would lose all sense in the telling if they kept on rewriting. So the pages were taken as they were and corrected by Uncle Ben.

As the various short articles came in to the Publishing House, Mrs. Talmage took charge of them. Many a pleased surprise she had as she read the different articles submitted by the boys, and the suggestions and hints sent in by the girls.

The Bobolinks spent every afternoon at their Publishing House, setting type, trying to run machines, and find out various things about business. The two young men promised by Uncle Ben were not expected until actual work on the magazine began.

So much talk had been heard at various dinner-tables in Oakdale, that fathers manifested enough curiosity in the work to ask for an invitation to the Publishing House. The habit of "dropping in to watch the boys" grew to be regular meetings, and the men enjoyed the social evenings as much as the boys did. Naturally, the work did not lose any of its value by the suggestions and ideas given by the older, experienced business men, but the Blue Birds grew envious over the evident interest shown in the Bobolinks while they were never about.

One afternoon the Blue Birds gathered about Mrs. Talmage with a complaint.

"Mother Wings, those Bobolinks will be 'way ahead of us in this fun, unless you get the mothers to meet once in a while to suggest things for us to do," said Ruth, dolefully.

"And from something I heard Don tell Mete, those fathers have promised to help the Bobolinks do the work, too!" broke in Dot Starr.

"Since Ned has moved his printing stuff to the carriage house his den is vacant—we might use that for our Winter Nest, until we find something better," suggested Mrs. Starr, after thinking seriously of what had just been said.

"That will be all right, but it won't boost our work like the boys are being boosted," fretted Norma.

"I shall have to think of it," replied Mrs. Talmage, deeply concerned over the discontent of the Blue Birds; but Aunt Selina, who had been a silent listener of the complaint, spoke.

"Are those Bobolinks and the men actually helping the success of the magazine?"

"No, not that we can see; they just use paper and fool away every evening running those machines," snapped Dot, who generally heard all the doings from her brothers.

"Then they are not getting ahead so fast with success as you seem to think," replied Aunt Selina, calmly. "The principal things in making a magazine pay are its circulation and the advertising contracts. If these are not being thought of and tried, the Bobolinks are wasting their precious time."

"But they are so well acquainted with the machines that they say they can print anything!" said Dot.

"All right, suppose we take them at their word and ask them to give us proof of some circulars," laughed Mrs. Talmage.

"I suppose they would, but where would we use them?" asked Norma.

"This is what I would suggest—we'll play the game of the 'Tortoise and the Hare,' and they'll be left asleep at their work while we win the race," declared Aunt Selina.

The Blue Birds gathered closer to Aunt Selina's chair, and she continued her instruction.

"We'll have Mother Wings write a letter and ask Mr. Wells to bring down that Institution Book he promised us, as we wish to use it at once. Then we'll count up the number of institutions where we could send a magazine and circular. Some of these will subscribe most likely, while the circular letter will reach the hands of some of the wealthy patrons of the Homes. We'll compose a letter and order those Bobolinks to print ten thousand for us. I guess that will keep them busy for a time and at the same time make them wonder what we are doing without their knowledge or consent."

"Shall we mail the letters when they are printed?" asked Betty.

"No, I thought we could address large-sized envelopes with the names of the institutions and as soon as the magazines are printed we can place a letter and a magazine in each envelope. Of course, we inclose a subscription blank, too; this work of folding and sealing the letters and magazines is where we will invite the mothers to help. After that we can send out some samples to other folks, but we will make the Bobolinks wonder why the mothers are here so often."

The Blue Birds laughed and thought the plan very good, and Dot Starr added, "We're surely glad you're here, Aunt Selina."

"And we will keep all of our papers and work in the den and no one will see what is being done," added Mrs. Talmage.

"You must keep the key, Mother Wings," advised Ruth.

The letter for Mr. Wells was written without delay, for Norma was to hand it to her father that evening. After this was finished the important work of composing a letter for folks who would receive the magazine was started.

This letter provoked many suggestions and criticisms, but finally was concluded and read aloud to the children, who declared it just right.

"But we haven't a bit of paper for the printing," exclaimed Ruth.

"Maybe Aunt Selina and I can go to the paper mills in the morning and see if they have any small lot that will do," suggested Mrs. Talmage.

This offer cheered the Blue Birds again, as a few hours' delay would not matter very much.

"Now, that's done, what next?" asked Dot.

"Next thing is to say 'good-afternoon' and go home," laughed Mrs. Talmage, looking at her watch.

"Oh, dear, mother, it cannot be dinner-time," said Ruth.

"It is almost six o'clock, and I have some matters to look after, dear," returned her mother.

"Well, we can invite our mothers to join us, anyway, can't we, Mrs. Talmage?" said May.

"Yes, but I wouldn't mention the fact that we feel that we must have them to enable us to get ahead of the Bobolinks, for your fathers will hear of it and plan some way to win out in spite of us," advised the astute Aunt Selina.

"We won't! We'll just say that as long as the boys have their fathers with them, we girls are going to invite our mothers," explained Norma, while the others nodded approval.

"May we come to-night?" asked Betty.

"How about school lessons?" asked Mrs. Talmage.

"And I want to revise several parts of my story to-night, besides the paper mills have not yet been visited, you know," objected Aunt Selina.

"Girls, we'd better wait until to-morrow; that's Friday and we won't have to go to bed so early as other evenings," suggested Ruth.

"All right, we'll meet in the den to-morrow afternoon and report how many mothers will be here," consented Dot.

"And I'll have Mrs. Catlin here in the evening," added Mrs. Talmage.

"Mother Wings, if we use that old room of Ned's, why couldn't we call it our Winter Nest? We can move in our cherry-tree Nest furniture when it grows colder and make the room look real comfy," said Ruth.

The other Blue Birds approved of the suggestion and Mrs. Talmage said she had no objection to having the Winter Nest in the den, so it was decided then and there.

Ruth accompanied her friends to the steps and as they stood vainly wishing there were several extra hours to add to an afternoon, Dot saw Don jump out of the wide-open door of the Publishing House and laugh derisively at someone inside.

"Now I wonder what that boy is up to?" she said.

"Oh, say, wouldn't it be fun to creep in back of the carriage house and peep in at the windows to watch the boys!" suggested Edith.

"I know a better way," answered Ruth. "We will ask Ike to let us go up in the loft from the small room and we can look down through the wide chinks of the floor."

"Oh, do let's!" cried the Blue Birds, as they hurried back of the house to steal noiselessly over to the garage.

Ike understood the rivalry growing between them, and decided to be perfectly impartial, so he unlocked the door of the small room where the stairs led to a loft over the Publishing House.

The Bobolinks were making such a noise that they never heard the creaking of the floor overhead, or the giggles of the girls as they glued their eyes to the crevices between the boards.

"Now it's Tuck's turn to be an advertising solicitor!" called Don, who evidently had been discharged from some make-believe service when he was so unexpectedly put out of the door.

"Ah, I'd never make a solicitor of any kind," grumbled Tuck Stevens.

"But you've got to play the game as we all promised," coaxed some of the boys.

"I'll be the man you want to see," persuaded Jinks.

"Come on, Tuck. We'll have to go home pretty soon, so get busy," commanded Ned.

The girls began to understand that the Bobolinks were not playing, but practicing their duty for the future, so they silently looked at each other and nodded understandingly.

"Here goes, then," ventured Tuck, bravely.

He strutted across the floor toward the office and met one of the boys stationed there.

"Good-morning, sir; do you wish to see anyone?" asked the impromptu clerk.

"I have an appointment with Mr. Slamhim," quivered Tuck, as if the visit was an actual affair.

The boys tittered with glee as Tuck turned red and white.

"Your name, please?" asked the polite clerk.

"Reuben Stevens," replied Tuck, in a whisper.

"Ha! the name'll queer you, Tuck!" laughed Don, behind his chum's back, but the older boys hushed Don.

The clerk rapped upon the office door and a voice said, "Come in."

"Reuben Stevens to see you, sir. He has an appointment."

"Show him in," said the voice which Ruth recognized as a disguised bass of Ned's.

Tuck walked to the office and then turned about and asked the other boys: "Now, what shall I say—I've forgotten."

Immediately there was a loud chorus of laughter, and a scuffle and Tuck was ousted in the same manner that Don had been.

"Didn't I say that name would spoil you?" teased Don.

"Next!" called one of the boys who had a list of names which he marked down "good, indifferent, bad."

The boy whose turn came next carried off the rehearsal as if he had been a solicitor all of his short life. The other boys cheered his efforts and even the Blue Birds were tempted to clap their hands.

"Well, Bobolinks, I think this will do for to-day; we have drilled three of the boys after the manner shown us last night, but Don and Tuck seem to be hopeless cases," said Ned.

"I'll practice it at home on Dot, and show you what I can do to-morrow," eagerly promised Don.

Dot looked up at her friends when she heard this and shook her head energetically.

The Bobolinks carefully covered the machines with the canvas covers and started to go out. At the same time the girls in the loft crept across the floor toward the steps. The boys were not making so much noise as when the Blue Birds went up in the loft, and Meredith stood surprised when he heard something moving over his head.

"Where's Ike?" he whispered to Ned.

"Just outside the door—why?" replied Ned.

"Don't you hear those footsteps?"

"What—where? Yes, of course!" exclaimed Ned.

Simon was seen crossing the lawn and Ike stood outside with the boys, so who could be upstairs?

Meantime, Ruth overheard Meredith's exclamation and hurried the girls down and out, and pushed them inside the garage before any of the boys could persuade Ike that someone was upstairs. Finally he allowed them to drag him to the small carriage room and ascend the steps.

The Blue Birds lay hidden in the bottom of the automobile and almost suffocated trying to keep from laughing outright at the way the Bobolinks were hoodwinked.

Every one of the boys trudged up the steps, but found the loft empty. As soon as they were out of sight in the small room, the girls jumped out of the car and ran madly for the shrubbery which sheltered the kitchen gardens from the lawns. Here, they could creep toward home without being seen from the barns.

Ike looked carefully about the loft but hid a smile when his back was turned.

"There, I told you no one was here!" he said.

"Well, I don't care, I heard them!" retorted Ned.

"Maybe it was rats!" ventured Ike.

"No, sir, you said that you were never pestered with rats; besides, this noise was just like walking would sound," insisted Ned.

Ike kept the boys upstairs arguing for a sufficient time to permit the Blue Birds to get out of the way, then he started down.

"Well, I'll keep the door locked and the key in my room," promised Ike, as the boys waited for him to lock up.

"If it was a tramp, Ned, he couldn't move our machinery, so what's the use bothering?" said Don.

"He could steal our type and other things, and sell them," grumbled Ned, still unassured.

Ruth was walking slowly up from the main gates when Ned reached the veranda. She was stooping over a chrysanthemum blossom to note its beautiful coloring when Ned whistled to attract her attention.

"Better hurry in and wash up for dinner—it's almost seven, and mother doesn't like dinner delayed, you know," Ned said, as Ruth skipped up smilingly.

Not a word was said, and the Bobolinks never found out how the Blue Birds watched them practice their future business tactics.

The next morning Mrs. Talmage and Aunt Selina had Ike drive them to the paper mills.

Mrs. Talmage explained her errand and selected some samples of stationery paper. The manager then showed them over the mills and Aunt Selina whispered aside to Mrs. Talmage: "What an interesting article this work would make."

"Indeed, yes!" replied Mrs. Talmage, turning to the manager to tell him of the new venture of the Blue Birds and ask him to write up a story about the manufacture of paper.

"That I will! I like to write, and often, when I'm tired or worried, I sit down to write a funny sketch. I have sold a number of them to Sunday papers," was the surprising reply.

The two ladies were escorted to the manager's office and chairs were placed for them while a price list was prepared for the convenience of the Blue Birds.

This done, the manager sat back in his office chair.

"Have the children planned any campaign for securing circulation?" he asked.

"Why, no, Mr. White, we intended talking that matter over with the mothers to-night. We are all so inexperienced in this undertaking that I suppose a business man would laugh at our way of putting 'the cart before the horse,' as the saying is," laughed Mrs. Talmage.

"The fact is, this whole proposition is so sudden and different from anything the children had dreamed of!" added Aunt Selina, in defence of their mistakes.

"I know! When I heard of the daring of the children I certainly admired their spunk, but I couldn't help shaking my head, too, for it is no joke to start a real business, as they are doing," said Mr. White, seriously.

"Well, we will need the help of all of our friends," smiled Mrs. Talmage.

"You'll have it, too. Why, everybody in Oakdale felt the Blue Birds' work last summer was wonderful; now, this new venture will have the support of all of the townsfolks."

"It is very encouraging to hear you speak so, and if you think of any way to boom our circulation, I wish you would come over some evening and tell us all about it," replied Mrs. Talmage.

Suddenly the manager sat upright and looked toward the book-shelves, which contained rows of business-like looking reference books.

"I believe we have the idea!" exclaimed he, jumping up and going over to the shelves to take down a heavy volume.

"This book contains all the names and addresses of stationery stores in the United States and Canada. It is only a year old, so most of these addresses will be up-to-date. We use it for mailing samples of our paper, but I have an idea that you would get plenty of subscriptions and make willing agents of these storekeepers. If you send a sample of your magazine and give them a liberal commission there is no reason why these firms would refuse to act as agents. Anyway, it would do no harm to try out the suggestion," said Mr. White.

"Why, Mr. White, do you know that you are a direct answer to my prayer!" cried Aunt Selina.

"I am grateful to be favored," laughed Mr. White, "but it must be your faith that brought the answer."

"Well, to tell the truth," continued Aunt Selina, "I am so very anxious to have this movement of the children a fine success that I have been praying in season and out for the way to open that we might be blessed in this work. All we needed for the next step was a hint for circulation."

"And I'll confide a secret, too," said Mrs. Talmage, leaning over toward the desk. "The boys have had their fathers meet with them every evening, advising and drilling them in ways and means to succeed, while my girls have had to do the best they can with Aunt Selina and me. This book will boost us far ahead of the Bobolinks and give the men who are advising a fine surprise."