The Romany Rest was one of the prettiest conceits, and though an idealised gypsy encampment, it proved a very popular attraction.
Half a dozen girls and as many young men wore what they fondly hoped looked enough like gypsy costumes to justify the name, but at any rate, they were most becoming and beautiful to look upon.
Patty was the gypsy queen, and looked like that personage as represented in comic opera. Seated on a queerly constructed, and somewhat wobbly throne, she told fortunes to those who desired to know what the future held for them.
Apparently there was great curiosity in this respect, for Patty was kept steadily busy from the time she arrived at her place.
Other gypsies sold gaily coloured beads, amulets and charms, and others stirred a queer-looking brew in a gypsy kettle over a real fire, and sold cupfuls of it to those who wished in this way to tempt fate still further.
It was a perfect day, and the afternoon was progressing most satisfactorily.
Bertha was one of the Swiss peasants, and by dint of much hurrying, she and Patty had been able to get ready in time to join the parade of costumed attendants as they marched to their various stations.
Though had it not been for Mr. Phelps and his swift motor-car, they could scarcely have reached the fair grounds in time.
Elise was one of the Italian flower girls, and Kenneth also wore the garb of Italy.
Mr. Hepworth and Roger Farrington were ferocious-looking Indians, and brandished their tomahawks and tossed their feathered heads in fearsome fashion.