"I'se going phonegraph your aunt right off!" Sarah declared.

Patricia caught her breath. Then she remembered. "But they haven't any
'phone at Gar's Hollow!"

Sarah wrung her hands. "And all them little ladies in white dresses, and
the hostess o' the 'casion looking like 'straction!"

"I always _feel_ like distraction when I'm all stiff and starchy
and uncomfortable," Patricia said; "I'd rather look it than feel it."

"Oh, I ain't overlooking that you're powerful reconciled to going to
your own party dressed like you is now, Miss P'tricia! Anyhow, you're
going to have a good wash-up and your hair combed; Miss Julia ain't laid
down no commands against that."

"W-well," Patricia slowly conceded, "only I'll see to it myself, Sarah."

Patricia's thick mop of brown curls was of the tangly order; and when
things had gone wrong, Sarah's touch was not always of the gentlest.

An hour later, Sarah, from her post of vantage on the side porch, saw
six little girls coming up the path. There were no boys invited. Miss
Kirby thought it so much nicer for little girls to play quietly by
themselves.

A moment, Sarah stared at them in amazement; then her fat sides shook
with laughter. "I shore might've knowed it! So that's what she was so
busy phonegraphing 'bout! That chile shore weren't born yesterday.