Mr. Pinckney threatened his daughter with his fist. "But I don't believe in boys having all the fun. Here he's going to dress up and take the youngsters in the parade, and then wants to furnish dinner and fireworks both; it's not fair."
"You can go in the parade if you are lucky enough to suggest a dazzlingly attractive form of decoration," said Carter; "that's the bill."
"Oh, don't let him go," shrilled out Jack; "he'll take up two seats."
"Now hear that," said Mr. Pinckney. "Every one's against me."
"Poor dear," said his daughter consolingly; "they shan't tease my dear old dad."
"I've a mind to get up a rival car," said Mr. Pinckney, "and outdo that boy."
"Boy yourself," retorted Carter, and Mr. Pinckney's "ha-ha!" roared out so infectiously that every one joined in.
New Year's day was so near at hand that it required some cudgeling of brains to bring forth ideas to suit the occasion.
"I think pink is prettiest," decided Jack. "All pink roses would be lovely."
"Oh, but that's so common," objected Jean. "I like blue better; there aren't near so many blue flowers as pink ones."