No "sperrit" of Licorice Stick's acquaintance had ever cast a spell
like this. They had called in weird voices but they had never contrived
a menu before his very eyes.

He went forth armed with the hammer and tacks and a pile of
mysterious cards, a little proud but trembling a little, too. There
was something uncanny about this; he would see it through but it was
a strange, dark business. He shuffled along the road, peering fearfully
into the woods now and again when suddenly a terrible apparition
appeared before him. He stood stark still, his eyes bulging out of his
head, his hands shaking and cold with fear. ...


CHAPTER XIII

PEPSY'S SECRET

"Sally Knapp says we ought to have some barrels to put the money
in," said Pepsy as they were decorating their little wayside booth on
the day of the grand opening. "I don't care what she says."

She was feeling encouraged, and cheerful for indeed the little
summer-house looked gay and attractive in its bunting drapery and
flaunting pennants. Failure could not lurk in such festal array, the
tin dishpan full of greasy doughnuts, the homemade rolls and fresh
sausages (which were better than any common wayside frankfurters) would
certainly lure the hungry thither. The world would seek these things
out. And were not the people of the grand carnival at Berryville to
pass here that very day, followed, no doubt, by gay pleasure seekers?