LITMIR.BIZ

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will I cause enchantments to fall upon thee, one and all! I am a magic witch, and I can cast spells!"

      Hester waved her arms about, and swayed from side to side, her eyes fixed in a glassy stare, and her red curls bobbing.

      "Good gracious!" cried Marjorie. "You're like a witch I saw on the stage once in a fairy pantomime. Say, Hester, let's have a pantomime entertainment some day."

      "All right. My mother'll help us. She's always getting up private theatricals and things like that. She says I inherit her dramatic talent."

      "All right," said Tom, warningly; "but don't you turn your dramatic talent toward tearing down our palace again."

      "Of course I won't, now I'm a member."

      "Of course she won't," agreed Marjorie. "Now, my courtiers, and lady-in-waiting, there's another subject to come before your royal attention. We must have a Court Journal."

      "What's that?" inquired Harry.

      "Why, a sort of a paper, you know, with all the court news in it."

      "There isn't any."

      "But there will be. We're not fairly started yet. Now who'll write this paper?"

      "All of us," suggested Tom.

      "Yes; but there must be one at the head of it,—sort of editor, you know."

      "Guess it better be King," said Tom, thoughtfully. "He knows the most about writing things."

      "All right," agreed King. "I'll edit the paper, only you must all contribute. We'll have it once a week, and everybody must send me some contribution, if it's only a little poem or something."

      "I can't write poems," said Harry, earnestly, "but I can gather up news,—and like that."

      "Yes," said Marjorie, "that's what I mean. But it must be news about us court people, or maybe our families."

      "Can't we make it up?" asked Hester.

      "Yes, I s'pose so, if you make it real court like and grand sounding."

      "What shall we call our paper?" asked King.

      "Oh, just the Court Journal," replied Midget.

      "I don't think so," objected Hester. "I think it ought to have a name like The Sand Club."

      "The Jolly Sandboy," exclaimed Tom. "How's that?"

      "But two of us are girls!" said Marjorie.

      "That doesn't matter, it's just the name of the paper, you know. And it sounds so gay and jolly."

      "I like it," declared King, and so they all agreed to the name.

      "Now, my courtiers and noble friends," said their Queen, "it's time we all scooted home to luncheon. My queen-dowager mother likes me to be on time for meals. Also, my majesty and my royal sand piper can't come back to play this afternoon. But shall this court meet to-morrow morning?"

      "You bet, your Majesty!" exclaimed Tom, with fervor.

      "That isn't very courtly language, my Grand Sandjandrum."

      "I humbly beg your Majesty's pardon, and I prostrate myself in humble humility!" And Tom sprawled on his face at Marjorie's feet.

      "Rise, Sir Knight," said the gracious Queen, and then the court dispersed toward its various homes.

      "Well, we had the greatest time this morning you ever heard of!" announced Marjorie as, divested of her royal trappings and clad in a fresh pink gingham, she sat at the luncheon table.

      "What was it all about, Moppets?" asked Mrs. Maynard.

      So King and Marjorie together told all about the intrusion of Hester on their celebration, and how they had finally taken her into the Sand Club as a member.

      "I think my children behaved very well," said Mrs. Maynard, looking at the two with pride.

      "I did get sort of mad at first, Mother," Marjorie confessed, not wanting more praise than was her just due.

      "Well, I don't blame you!" declared King. "Why, that girl made most awful faces at Mops, and talked to her just horrid! If she hadn't calmed down afterward we couldn't have played with her at all."

      "I've heard about that child," said Mrs. Maynard. "She has most awful fits of temper, I'm told. Mrs. Craig says that Hester will be as good and as sweet as a lamb for days,—and then she'll fly into a rage over some little thing. I'm glad you children are not like that."

      "I'm glad, too," said King. "We're not angels, but if we acted up like Hester did at first we couldn't live in the house with each other!"

      "Her mother is an actress," observed Marjorie.

      "Oh, no, Midget, you're mistaken," said her mother. "I know Mrs. Corey, and she isn't an actress at all, and never was. But she is fond of amateur theatricals, and she is president of a club that gives little plays now and then."

      "Yes, that's it," said King. "Hester said her mother had dramatic talent, and she had inherited it. Have you dramatic talent, Mother?"

      "I don't know, King," said Mrs. Maynard, laughing. "Your father and I have joined their dramatic club, but it remains to be seen whether we can make a success of it."

      "Oh, Mother!" cried Marjorie. "Are you really going to act in a play? Oh, can we see you?"

      "I don't know yet, Midget. Probably it will be an entertainment only for grown-ups. We've just begun rehearsals."

      "Have we dramatic talent, Mother?"

      "Not to any astonishing degree. But, yes, I suppose your fondness for playing at court life and such things shows a dramatic taste."

      "Oh, it's great fun, Mother! I just love to sit on that throne with my long trail wopsed on the floor beside me, and my sceptre sticking up, and my courtiers all around me,—oh, Mother, I think I'd like to be a real queen!"

      "Well, you see, Midget, you were born in a country that doesn't employ queens."

      "And I'm glad of it!" cried Marjorie, patriotically. "Hooray! for the land of the free and the home of the brave! I guess I don't care to be a real queen, I guess I'll be a president's wife instead. Say, Mother, won't you and Father write us some poems for The Jolly Sandboy?"

      "What is that, Midget?"

      "Oh, it's our court journal,—and you and Father do write such lovely poetry. Will you, Mother?"

      "Yes, I 'spect so."

      "Oh, goody! When you say 'I 'spect so,' you always do. Hey, King, Rosy Posy ought to have a sandy kind of a name, even if she doesn't come to our court meetings."

      "'Course she ought. And she can come sometimes, if she doesn't upset things."

      "She can't upset things worse'n Hester did."

      "No; but I don't believe Hester will act up like that again."

      "She may, Marjorie," said Mrs. Maynard. "I've heard her mother say she can't seem to curb Hester's habit of flying into a temper. So just here, my two loved ones, let me ask you to be kind to the little girl, and if she gets angry, don't flare back at her, but try 'a soft answer.'"

      "But, Mother," said King, "that isn't so awful easy! And, anyway, I don't think she ought to do horrid things,—like tumbling down our palace,—and then we just forgive her, and take her into the club!"

      "Why not, King?"

      King looked a little nonplussed.

      "Why," he said, "why,—because it doesn't seem fair."

      "And does it seem fairer for you to lose your temper too, and try what children call 'getting even with her'?"

      "Well, Mother, it does seem fairer, but I guess it isn't very,—very noble."

      "No, son, it isn't. And I hope you'll come to think that sometimes nobility of action is better than mere justice."

      "I see what you mean, Mother, and somehow, talking here with you, it all seems true enough. But when we get away from you, and off with the boys and girls, these things seem different. Were you always

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