Some kind shopkeepers had donated fishing-rods and reels, trout flies, game-bags, bows and arrows, and many such wares. Betty was happy and gay, and her dark curls clustered round her merry, rosy face as she wheedled her patrons into making further purchases of all sorts of wares.
October was Lena Carey’s choice. She used all the traditional features of Hallowe’en, and in a semi-darkened tent she told fortunes to gullible victims. Dressed as a witch in a red robe, a black cape, and a red peaked hat, she fondled her own pet black cat, though old Tabby would not look weird and mysterious.
The interior of Lena’s tent was scarefully decorated with bats and strange devices, and was adorned with lighted Jack-o’-lanterns.
Lena was clever at fortune-telling, and, as her clients were not exacting as to methods, she managed to satisfy them all with most pleasant, even if most improbable, promises for the future.
Next came November, which was Martha’s. At first it had not seemed easy to think of a character for Martha appropriate to November. But as Betty looked at the round, stolid face, full of wholesome good nature, but not piquant or fascinating, she exclaimed:
“Good gracious, Martha! You’re just like your grandmother. Do chirk up and giggle sometimes!”
Then her own speech gave her an idea. “Martha,” she cried, “that’s just it! You shall be your own grandmother! November is the Thanksgiving month, and the very spirit of the Thanksgiving feast is the Grandmother.”
So chubby-faced Martha was transformed into the dearest old lady you ever saw—white hair, cap, and spectacles; plain gray gown, with kerchief crossed on her bosom, and knitting work beside her; everything of old-fashioned style, even her reticule and black silk mitts.
BOB CAREY, AS THE LION IN “MARCH,” SELLING MARCHES