One morning Mrs. Hargrave was called to the telephone to speak with Mrs. Culver. Mrs. Culver wanted to know if Mrs. Hargrave thought it would be all right to take the two girls to Fontaine Ferry for the afternoon, eat their supper there, and return when the children had had a chance to see the electrical display.

“It is the sort of a place one always wants to see once, like Coney Island,” she said, “and I think the girls are about the right age to have a good time there for a few hours without being disillusioned.”

Mrs. Hargrave agreed with her.

“It will be a wild adventure for Rosanna,” she said. “I have faith in Helen keeping her head, but you must watch Rosanna. If she looks too feverish, bring her home, please.”

“I will indeed,” promised Mrs. Culver.

“Of course you will; I am not afraid,” said Mrs. Hargrave. “Send the children around here before you start.”

Once more Uncle Robert’s hamper was dragged out and stocked with good things. They were to start at three o’clock. When they were ready they went skipping down the street to Mrs. Hargrave’s house.

“Well, Rosanna,” she said, “I wonder what your grandmother will say to me when she finds out that I have given you permission to go to Fontaine Ferry? I know you will have a splendid time. I have never been there myself, and I am sorry that I can’t go today. I am obliged to take the six o’clock train for the country. Cousin Hendy has sent for me post haste. She says she is at the point of death. I suppose this time it is cucumbers. They are about ripe now.

“I want you both to remember everything you do, so you can tell me about it. If I stay in the country for a few days, Rosanna, I will write a letter to your grandmother telling her just what I think about a great many things, and urging her to let you join the Girl Scouts.

“And as long as I can’t go and have a good time spending my money, I want you children to take it and spend it for me. This is not for your education, Helen. I want you to promise to spend it, every bit.”

They kissed her good-by and calling their thanks went dancing away.

The car was waiting, and off they went on the pleasant ride through the city and out Broadway. As there was plenty of time, they drove through Shawnee Park and along the bluff overlooking the Ohio River creeping sluggishly past. Then they turned, and went a short mile to the entrance to the Ferry.

Parking the car, they went in, Mr. Culver bringing the hamper of supper. The Ferry is a very large place and every foot of it is covered with tan-bark, smooth and brown and springy. Rosanna felt as though she was walking in a riding academy. Everything was exquisitely clean.

As the children walked along, they commenced to hear music everywhere and to see the merry-go-rounds whirling, the Ferris wheel spinning high in the air, the squeals from the shute-the-shutes, and hundreds of other fascinating noises. They found a place where they could check the hamper and coats, and sat down on a bench for a little to look around.

Presently Helen’s father said, “Well, we will have to start if we want to see everything. Shall we have a ride on the merry-go-round to start with?”

Rosanna drew out her envelope.

“We must spend our dollar,” she said and tore it open. Helen did the same. Each envelope held a clean new ten dollar bill. The children looked at them in amazement.

“And I can’t use it for college!” Helen wailed. “She made me promise to spend it.”

When they reached the merry-go-round, they chose the wildest looking horses and mounted them in fear and trembling. When they had finished the wonderful five minutes, they tried the chariots. Then there was a certain camel that looked safe and steady, and Helen rode a lion.

They wanted to ride all day, but Helen’s father warned them that there were other things to see. They walked along looking everywhere at once when Rosanna gave a scream. She found herself looking into a mirror, clear and bright; but what had it done to Rosanna? She was really a thin little girl who had often had to take cod liver oil. In the mirror she gazed at a fat chunk with Rosanna’s features and hair and about ten times Rosanna’s breadth. It was quite terrifying. Then she heard an awed gasp from Helen followed by a shriek of laughter, and ran over to see what was left of Helen in a mirror that had drawn her out to the thickness of a needle. Together the girls looked and laughed.

After they had torn themselves away from this amusement, they came to a booth where dozens of rings like embroidery hoops could be thrown over pegs in the wall. Each peg had a prize hanging above it: gold watches, diamond rings, wrist watches, gold and silver bracelets, and dozens of other things. But most of the pegs had little bright tin tags or medals and you had to get ten of those before you could exchange them for a near-gold breast-pin.

Helen and Rosanna were very much excited over this, and could have been quite covered with medals. They would not throw the rings on any peg that was worth while. Finally they moved on in disgust, after paying the man about a dollar apiece.

On a corner were a group of little burros, the tiny Mexican donkeys and children could ride along to the corner and back for ten cents. Nothing in the whole world could make those donkeys go off a slow walk. They knew perfectly well that it didn’t pay to frisk up their heels and bolt, so they simply wagged an ear or flirted a tail if the children slapped them.

“I suppose they have traveled to that corner fifty million times,” said Helen, watching the solemn procession take its way with the donkey boys following close on the donkeys’ heels and shouting to them to “Giddap!”

“Poor dears!” said Rosanna. “How tired of it all they must be!”

It took a lot of argument before they decided to try the Ferris wheel, but Rosanna wisely said that it would probably be the last chance she would ever have to try it, and Helen said that she wouldn’t want to come unless Rosanna could, so the children seated themselves and were strapped in the basket, and presently when all the little basket seats were full, off they went. It was perfectly frightful when you have just been a simple human being all your life and suddenly try sailing up and around all at the same time! At the top there was a drop, a sort of launching out right into space, and the girls clung to each other and shut their eyes.

After they had rested awhile they went along, threading their way through the crowds until they came to the roller coaster.

Here they sat in a little car which held four people, but Mrs. Culver still refused to leave the ground. They embarked from a little platform, and were in one car of a little train of four. On the other side of the platform four other cars were filling up. When all the seats were taken, someone gave a signal and off went the little trains down such a steep grade that their rush carried them far up another incline. This was repeated over and over until they had reached a great height. Here there was a sheer drop as straight as it could be made without taking the cars off the rails, and down they went, turning and twisting. All at once they were plunged into a pitch black tunnel.

“Oh, oh, oh!” cried Rosanna. It was the first time she had screamed, but she did not hear herself because everyone else was screaming too.

Then as suddenly as they had plunged into the dark, they came out into the light again, gave a few more turns and drops for good measure, and stopped at the very identical place where they started.

They got out of their car, and staggered, rather than walked, over to Mrs. Culver, who was laughing at them. Rosanna’s long curls were blown every which way around her small, dark face, and Helen’s bobbed hair was sticking straight up.

“There is a Trip to the Moon right over here,” said Mr. Culver. “Don’t you want to go?”

“No, thank you,” said Rosanna feebly, and Helen said, “Why, daddy, I couldn’t bear another thing today! Let’s go back and ride those nice steady wooden horses.”

They walked back to the merry-go-round, and spent a happy half hour riding the menagerie. After that it was time to get supper. It always takes a long time to eat a picnic supper, and dusk was close when at last they finished. One by one the stars came out and then as though touched by a great spring, Fontaine Ferry burst into a dazzling blaze of electric lights.

Blazing, twinkling, winking, the lights hung or turned or whirled. White, colored groups, and single stars, among the trees, down the wide drive-ways, the Ferry had turned into fairyland.

“This is the best of all,” said Rosanna softly.

“Isn’t it?” answered Helen, her eyes wide. “How I wish Mrs. Hargrave could see it! That young Mrs. Hargrave that is inside the old shell of a Mrs. Hargrave would have all sorts of pretty thoughts about it. Don’t you know she would?”

“Tomorrow you must come over real early,” said Rosanna as they rode home, squeezing Helen’s hand. “And I owe grandmother a letter. It will be easy to make a nice letter out of all we have seen. I wish Mrs. Hargrave would come home to-morrow.”

The car drove up before the big house, and Rosanna, tired out, but so very, very happy, thanked Mr. and Mrs. Culver and ran up the steps. The car waited, purring at the curb, to see that the door was promptly opened. Rosanna heard the lock shoot back and the knob turn.

“It’s all right,” she said, looking down at the car. With a wave and a smile Mr. Culver drove off, and happy little Rosanna turned slowly, speaking as she did so.

“Oh, Minnie dear, I have had the bestest sort of a time!” she said. “I only wish you ” She looked up. Her grandmother stood before her.

“Why, grandmother, when did you get home?” said Rosanna with a smile, lifting her face to be kissed.

Her grandmother did not bend down. Instead she stood very stiff and straight, looking at Rosanna with hard, cold, angry eyes that cut her like swords.

“Go to your room!” said Mrs. Horton in a dreadful voice.