Peggy had watched this conference from across the room; and she now came quickly over to her cousin. "Look out, Mill," she said in a low tone, "you will have to be awfully careful that no one catches on. If I were you I wouldn't stay so near the poetry table."
Peggy, already deeply regretting her joke, wished to spare her cousin as much as possible. But her good intentions were frustrated by Mrs. Pearson.
"Millicent," said that lady, "we have had some new wares sent in; something I never saw before at a fair. Poems, my dear. Just think of it; and by a member of the congregation! We can't imagine who wrote them, and of course they are perfect trash" (this in a low voice), "but we will have to do our best to sell them, so I want you to take charge of that table. You won't mind changing, I know. And try not to let the people laugh at the poems. They are absurd, I know, judging from one I picked up. It was about a moth or an ant or something. I am not sure that it was not a Croton bug," and with a laugh at her own wit Mrs. Pearson led Millicent to the poetry table, and established her behind it.
It was now twelve o'clock, the hour at which the fair was to be opened to the public.
Two or three hours later the sale was in full swing. A great many people came, for it was in every respect a fashionable function, and it was considered quite the thing to be seen there. People bought largely also of every variety of article—except poetry. That seemed to go a-begging.
There was always a crowd about the table, but no one felt inclined to purchase. The little booklets were picked up, read, dropped again, with laughter and comments, until Millicent felt that she would gladly sink through the floor.
Even her own mother came, criticised, and moved on, with a whispered question to Millicent as to what member of the congregation could have been so conceited and so senseless as to do such a thing as this.
Millicent's head ached, and tears filled her eyes, and she thought the climax had been reached when Elsie Pearson, picking one up at random, said, laughingly:
"Just listen to this, Milly! It is the gem of the whole collection. I can't help it if the 'member of the congregation' does see me. She deserves to be made fun of." And Elsie in a whisper read the following: