"And not a single one quacked wrong! Didn't they do beautifully? Thank
everybody for coming. Good-night." And in the darkness they could
hear her laughing with Mrs. Moon and Mrs. Corbin as they went
together down the street.

A few minutes later in Miss Gibbie's library she was dancing that lady
of full figure round and round the room, and not for some seconds would
she stop.

"Oh, Miss Gibbie, if you'd just been there! Not a sign of fight from
any one, and as to fireworks, there wasn't a pop-cracker! Mr. Benny
Brickhouse orated, of course, and Mrs. McDougal was irrepressible,
but without them it would have been solemn--/solemn!/ I tried not
talk too much. Men don't like it; they like women to listen to them,
but to-night they--"

"Like sheep before their shearer, were dumb--as I'll be dead if you
don't sit sown. Sit down!"

"I can't." And Miss Gibbie was waltzed around once more. "I don't
understand, but it's going to be all right. Men are certainly funny.
For weeks every member of the council has pooh-hooded me, thought my
audaciousness was outrageousness, shook their heads and waved me
out, and didn't begin to listen seriously until a week ago. To-night
they were little lambs!"

"If you'll stop butting round like a goat and go to bed I'll hear about
these lambkins to-morrow. I sat up to tell you good-night, not to hear
you talk. It's nearly twelve o'clock. Of course they came round!
Wind-watchers, all of them! That 3 per cent. got them. I told you if