and turn about is fair play."

"It's Fairfield play, at any rate," put in Jack. "You're a trump,
Patty, to take it so sweetly. I wish you didn't have to go,
though."

"So say we all of us," declared Lora, but Patty ordered them,
rather earnestly, to drop the subject and not refer to it again.

"You must write me all about the Pageant, girls," she went on.

"Can't I write too, though I'm not a girl?" asked Jack.

"No!" cried Patty, holding up her hands in pretended horror. "I
couldn't receive a letter from a young man!"

"Oh, try it," said Jack, laughing. "I'll help you. You've no idea
how easy it is! Have you never had a letter from a man?"

"From papa," said Patty, putting the tip of her finger in her
mouth, and speaking babyishly.

"Papa, nothing! You get letters from those New York chaps, don't
you, now?"

"Who New York chaps?" asked Patty, opening her eyes wide, with an
over-innocent stare.

"Oh, that Harper kid and that Farrington cub and that Hepworth old
gentleman!"