wife, the former bowing and smiling right and left, and saluted by
the rising school children, when he seated himself in the judges'
stand, with the shrill, thrilling notes of the national anthem.

And then another band, and--at last!--the slow-moving, flower-
covered carriages and motors, a long, wonderful, brilliant line of
them. White-clad children in rose-smothered pony-carts, pretty girls
in a setting of scarlet carnations, more pretty girls half-hidden in
bobbing and nodding daisies--every one more charming than the last.
There were white horses as dazzling as soap and powder could make
them; horses whose black flanks glistened as dark as coal, and there
was a tandem of cream-colored horses that tossed rosettes of pink
Shirley poppies in their ears. The Whites' motor-car, covered with
pink carnations, and filled with good-looking lads flying the colors
of the Women's Club and the nation's flag, won a special round of
applause. Mrs. Burgoyne and Barry loyally clapped for the Pratt
motor-car, from which Joanna Burgoyne and Lizzie Pratt's children
were beaming upon the world.

"But what are they halting for, and what are they clapping?" Sidney
presently demanded, when a break in the line and a sudden outburst
of cheering and applause interrupted the parade. Barry again hung at
a dangerous angle from the window. Presently he sat back, his face
one broad smile.

"It's us," he remarked simply. "Wait until you see us; we're the
cream of the whole show!"

Too excited to speak, Sidney knelt breathless at the sill, her eyes
fixed upon the spot where the cause of the excitement must appear.