Joanna went to school, longing for the morning to pass that she might get to the fair herself. She and one of her friends were to manage the "fish pond," while Millicent was to be an aid at the flower-table, and Peggy would assist in selling some of the fancy articles.
Peggy left the package at the office, and then hailed a car, that she might not fail to reach the fair in time to witness its arrival. She looked forward to having some rare sport. She only wished that she could take some one into her confidence, for it is always so much more fun to laugh with a comrade than to laugh alone. However, a laugh is valuable at any time.
So thought Miss Peggy as she made her way along Thirty-seventh Street in her new spring hat and gown, her eyes dancing with anticipation.
The poem on Cousin Appolina had been tucked into the box along with the rest, but very much underneath. In that way Peggy felt confident that it would escape observation at the fair, and yet be among the poems to give Millicent a shock when they came back.
"For of course no one is going to buy those silly things," said Peggy to herself; "and I hope it will be a good lesson to Milly. Such conceit as hers in regard to that poetry I never saw, and it ought to be taken down."
She found the rooms in a state of disorder. Various fashionable dames who had the fair in charge were running about in a vain attempt to bring some degree of order out of the confusion, and Peggy's coming was hailed with delight.
"Oh, Peggy Reid! Just the person I want. Peggy, dear, do hold the end of this scarf while I fasten it here."
"Peggy, just see if you can find the tack-hammer."
"Peggy, you have just come, and can see things with a fresh eye. Tell me the effect of this drapery."
But notwithstanding all these calls upon her, Peggy managed to be conveniently near the door when a messenger-boy appeared, bearing a box addressed, in a printed hand, to Mrs. Pearson, who had charge of the fair. Peggy took the box, dismissed the boy hastily, and carried it to Mrs. Pearson.