“Kenneth,” said Patty, looking at him with an expression of mock terror, “I couldn’t help myself that time! Honest, I couldn’t. Mr. Phelps is a fearful tyrant. He’s an ogre, and when he commanded me to go, I just had to go! He’s a man that makes you do a thing, whether you want to or not. Why, Kenneth, he just marched me off!”
“All right,” said Kenneth, “I’ll take a leaf out of his book. After this, when I want you to go anywhere, I’ll just march you off.”
“You can try,” said Patty, saucily, “but I’m not sure you can do it. It takes a certain type of man to do that sort of thing successfully, and I don’t know anybody but Dick Phelps who’s just that kind.”
But peace was restored, for Kenneth realised that Patty’s explanation was a fair one, and that he had been foolishly quick to take offence.
After supper they all went to the grand stand to see the parade of fancy costumes.
These were quite separate from the booth attendants, and a prize had been offered for the cleverest conceit, most successfully carried out.
When at last the grand march took place, it showed a wonderful array of thoroughly ingenious costumes.
Of course there were many clowns, historical characters, fairies, and queer nondescript creatures, but there were also many characters which were unique and noteworthy.
Mr. Hepworth, who was in the parade, had chosen to represent the full moon.
How he did it, no one quite knew; but all that was visible was an enormous sphere, of translucent brightness and a luminous yellow color.