the advice of a grown-up."

This seemed a fair proposition, and the three wandered in at the
very place where they had been sitting on the stone.

With renewed courage, they rang the door bell. It was Marjorie's
turn to speak, and the words were on the tip of her tongue. Being
somewhat excited, she began her speech as the door began to open.

"Don't you want to buy some pennyroyal extract?" she said rapidly;
"it's perfectly fine for mosquitoes, measles, and burns, and
scarlet fever! It isn't worth a cent a quart, but we sell it for
fifty cents a bottle, if you give the bottles back. But if you
don't think it's right for us to sell it, we won't."

Marjorie would not have been quite so mixed up in her speech but
for the fact that after she was fairly started upon it, she raised
her eyes to the person she was addressing, and instead of a kind
and sweet-faced lady she beheld a very large, burly, and red-faced
gentleman.

Not wishing to appear embarrassed, she floundered on with her
speech, though in reality she hardly knew what she was saying.

"Well, upon my soul!" exclaimed the red-faced gentleman, in a
loud, deep voice, "here's a pretty kettle of fish. Young ladies
peddling extract at decent people's houses!" He glared at the
girls with a ferocious expression, and then went on, in even
louder tones: "What do you MEAN by such doings? Have you a
license? Don't you know that people who sell goods without a