make collections of them."

Agamemnon had a tent which he had provided in case he should ever go to
the Adirondacks, and he proposed using it for the night. The little boys
were wild for this.

Mrs. Peterkin thought she and Elizabeth Eliza would prefer trying to
sleep in the house. But perhaps Elizabeth Eliza would go on with her
paper with more comfort out of doors.

A student's lamp was carried out, and she was established on the steps
of the back piazza, while screens were all carefully closed to prevent
the mosquitoes and insects from flying out. But it was of no use. There
were outside still swarms of winged creatures that plunged themselves
about her, and she had not been there long before a huge miller flung
himself into the lamp and put it out. She gave up for the evening.

Still the paper went on. "How fortunate," exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza,
"that I did not put it off till the last evening!" Having once begun,
she persevered in it at every odd moment of the day. Agamemnon presented
her with a volume of "Synonymes," which was of great service to her. She
read her paper, in its various stages, to Agamemnon first, for his
criticism, then to her father in the library, then to Mr. and Mrs.
Peterkin together, next to Solomon John, and afterward to the whole
family assembled. She was almost glad that the lady from Philadelphia
was not in town, as she wished it to be her own unaided production. She
declined all invitations for the week before the night of the club, and
on the very day she kept her room with _eau sucrée_, that she might
save her voice. Solomon John provided her with Brown's Bronchial Troches
when the evening came, and Mrs. Peterkin advised a handkerchief over her