"We didn't mean that; we thought some one would be postmaster all the time," said Jack.
"Oh, dear me, I should think you would get into a fuss if you tried to decide who was to have the fun all alone," laughed Miss Isabel. "And so you were going to give up the whole thing, and cheat me of all the pleasure you promised me because you did not hit on such a simple plan! And last night we decided that Blissylvania was to be a real republic, with every one equal! Look up, little Marguerite; you are a daisy too wet with rain just now. Don't make mountains of molehills, children; it is much wiser to make molehills of the mountains we have to climb in life. Now, I think each would better be postmaster a week at a time, and draw lots for the order of serving. Or, perhaps, it would be better still to have the term of office last but three days, for then the terms will come around quicker."
She did not add that this would give each a second chance to serve in case they tired quickly of the new play, but she thought it.
"Shall we draw lots for turns now?" she asked, reaching for the white paper on which they had been making impressions before the storm broke.
"Yes, Miss Isabel," said Jack and Amy and Trix meekly, while Margery sat up pale and trembling, and began to dry her eyes. The others glanced at her wonderingly; they never could understand why Margery seemed half sick if she had been angry or had cried.
Miss Isabel wrote the numbers, and they drew, Amy number one, Trix two, Margery three, and Jack four.
"Now please show me the boxes. Why, they are very nicely made, Jack; did you do it alone?"
"Yes, Miss Isabel," said Jack, beaming, all trace of anger melted in the sunshine of her presence.
"And look, Miss Isabel, here's the drop-box," cried Amy. "You put letters through the slit in the top, and when you have a parcel you lift the cover and put it inside."
Miss Isabel laughed.