Uncle John really had more fun out of the famous Kermess than anyone
else. The preparations gave him something to do, and he enjoyed
doing--openly, as well as in secret ways. Having declared that he would
stock the flower booth at his own expense, he confided to no one his
plans. The girls may have thought he would merely leave orders with a
florist; but that was not the Merrick way of doing things. Instead, he
visited the most famous greenhouses within a radius of many miles,
contracting for all the floral blooms that art and skill could produce.
The Kermess was to be a three days' affair, and each day the floral
treasures of the cast were delivered in reckless profusion at the flower
booth, which thus became the center of attraction and the marvel of the
public. The girls were delighted to be able to dispense such blooms, and
their success as saleswomen was assured at once. Of course the fair
vendors were ignorant of the value of their wares, for Uncle John
refused to tell them how extravagant he had been; so they were obliged
to guess at the sums to be demanded and in consequence sold priceless
orchids and rare hothouse flora at such ridiculous rates that Mr.
Merrick chuckled with amusement until he nearly choked.

The public being "cordially invited" Uncle John was present on that
first important evening, and--wonder of wonders--was arrayed in an
immaculate full-dress suit that fitted his chubby form like the skin of
a banana. Mayor Doyle, likewise disguised, locked arms with his
brother-in-law and stalked gravely among the throng; but neither ever
got to a point in the big room where the flower booth was not in plain
sight. The Major's pride in "our Patsy" was something superb; Uncle John
was proud of all three of his nieces. As the sale of wares was for the
benefit of charity these old fellows purchased liberally--mostly flowers
and had enough parcels sent home to fill a delivery wagon.