LAVINIA'S LAWN PARTY.

BY JOSEPHINE POLLARD.

"Lavinia Dean!"

"Well, what?"

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"

"What for? What am I doing, I'd like to know?" and Lavinia looked out from between the hands that framed her face with an expression of anger, annoyance, and surprise.

Gussie Turner laughed, took off her hat, brushed up her bangs—for it was a warm afternoon—and sat down on the porch beside Vinnie Dean, imitating her very attitude. Lavinia frowned, for she disliked being made fun of; but Gussie was such a jolly girl that it was impossible for any one to be provoked at her for any length of time.

"What's the matter?" asked Gussie. "Why do you sit like a squaw, with your elbows on your knees, and your chin on your hands? Is there trouble on the war-path?"

"No," was the snappish response.

"My!" exclaimed Gussie. "I had no idea you could be so savage. May I inquire to which tribe you belong?"

"I don't belong to any tribe. Do stop your nonsense."

"Don't belong to any tribe? Then why have you put on the war-paint and feathers? Ah, I have it! Eureka! Alabama! The white man has entered your camp and stolen your humpty-dumpty little pappoose. Come, let us prepare for revenge;" and Gussie slipped her arm tenderly round Vinnie's waist. "I ain't much of a fighter myself, but I have a brother who thinks he is equal to a whole tribe of Indians, and if there are any scalps to be taken, we'll send for Tad Turner."

Vinnie found it impossible to resist Gussie Turner; and although she still maintained her humped-up position, her face gave token that the war cloud was almost if not quite dispelled.

"It's about my birthday," said Vinnie.

"What? Wish you'd never been born?" inquired Gussie, with a comically anxious expression. "Dear me!"

"No," said Vinnie, clasping her knees with her hands, "not so bad as that; but I do wish I had been born in the winter."

"Why?" asked Gussie, fanning herself with her hat.

"Well, because I might have had a party then, and music and ice-cream and all the nice things that other girls have. I think it mean to be born in the summer, when it's too hot to do anything, and lots of folks are away."

"Except mosquitoes," said Gussie, striking Vinnie a blow on the shoulder that would have killed a mosquito as large as a grasshopper. It had the effect of rousing Vinnie from her attack of the doldrums; and although she was rather inclined to be angry and resentful, she was soon restored to a more peaceful frame of mind.

"It was a mosquito, really," said Gussie; "but I didn't mean to hit him so hard."

"Hit him?" said Vinnie, rubbing her shoulder. "Hit her, I should say."

"Yes, the females do all the biting," said Gussie, "and that's all I know about them. My birthday is in December," she continued, as if there had been no interruption in the discourse.

"Oh, that's nice!" exclaimed Vinnie.

"No, it isn't," said Gussie. "It isn't nice at all to be born on the 23d of December, for then it's so near Christmas that nobody takes any notice of it."

"But you could have a party."

"We don't have parties at our house, you know," said Gussie, with a change of tone which reminded Vinnie that Mrs. Turner was a nervous invalid, and had to be kept quiet and as free as possible from every annoyance.

Gussie Turner when out-of-doors was an entirely different creature from what she was when in the house, and those who called her a "tomboy" and "hoyden" should have seen her when officiating as head nurse at her mother's bedside. She had a great flow of animal spirits, and was naturally the leader in all out-door sports, which kept her from being cross and cranky. Besides, she had a taste for reading, and was as interested in her brother Tad's adventures as any girl could expect to be, and went fishing or boating with him whenever she could get a chance.

Tad said she was "as good as a boy," which was a very great compliment, I can tell you, and Gussie was better skilled in boys' sports than she was in girls', because she had no sisters to play with. Parties she had no fondness for; they were stupid affairs at best, and she never had been to one that she did not feel as if all her clothes were made of whalebone.

"I'd like a lawn party," she said to Vinnie. "They must be nice."

"What are they like?"

"Oh, I don't know! There's never been one here," said Gussie, "but I've read about them. They're all out-doors. Splendid for summer."

"I should think so," said Vinnie. "But—"

"Well, as Tad would say, what have you butted against now?"

"The lawn. We haven't any;" and Vinnie looked as if she were nearly related to White Cloud or Sitting Bull.

"No," said Gussie, eying the small patch of grass in front of the house almost concealed by the tall shrubbery. "It's too bad. But—"

"Now you've butted against something," exclaimed Vinnie, catching the infection of Gussie's merriment.

"No, I haven't," was the reply. "I've butted over the fence, and have the bull—no, the goat—by the horns. We have—a—lovely—lawn!"

"Gussie!"

"Fact."

"But your mother?"

"I think she'll like it. Tad'll help us. We'll combine our birthdays, and have a royal good time." Here she seized Vinnie around the waist, and waltzed her about to the tune of the "Racquet Galop" until both were out of breath.

Mrs. Turner and Mrs. Dean were consulted, and gave their hearty consent to the proposed plan, and Tad saw a good chance for distinguishing himself. He and Gus had been reading about lawn tennis, and had seen so many illustrations of the game that they were sure they could play it if they had a chance.

Vinnie's birthday was on the 12th of August, and she was to see that the invitations were sent out and the guests invited to her house. The rest was to be kept a profound secret, and as neither Tad's nor Gussie's friends were in the habit of collecting near the house, on account of the known sensitiveness of Mrs. Turner's nerves, it was easy to make all the necessary arrangements.

Tad rigged a fish-net on the lawn, following the exact directions given in Harper's Young People, and was wonderfully well pleased with his success. Vinnie and Gussie encouraged him by their presence, and admired the ease and skill with which he drove the posts and fastened the guy-ropes.

"It's splendid!" exclaimed Vinnie. "Is that all? I don't know much about the game, but I'd like to learn it."

"It's easy," said Tad. "We'll practice before Thursday, if—"

Here Tad gave a comical look toward Gussie, who returned it with a shake of the head. Vinnie caught the signs, but could not interpret them.

"What is it?" she asked. Tad walked off with his hands in his pockets. "It's an if, and you must tell me, Gussie, or I'll be real angry."

"It's mean," replied Gussie, her bright face in an unusual snarl. "We need the racquets and balls, and Tad says they'll cost at least two dollars."

"And did he suppose I'd let him buy them?" asked Vinnie, an indignant color flushing her cheek. "Why, this is my party, you remember!"

"Yes, but it's our lawn, don't you know, and we mustn't have the wrong kind of a racket on it."

Vinnie failed to appreciate the joke, not having much acquaintance with the game. But she talked the matter over with Mrs. Dean, and on Wednesday morning, when Tad was busy picking up the sticks and stones about the lawn, an express wagon drove up to the gate, and a parcel was handed him marked

Mr. Thaddeus Turner.

Tad never felt quite so important in his life, or much better pleased than when he found it contained two handsome racquets and two balls, so that the worry was over about the game of lawn tennis.

There was a note with the parcel from Mr. Dean, which ran thus:

"Mr. Thaddeus Turner:

"Dear Sir,—I have no idea what the expense would be of hiring a lawn, but the inclosed may to some extent cover the ground and relieve from any feeling of indebtedness.

"Yours very truly, Harrison Dean."

"He's a gentleman," said Tad, folding the note and tucking it away in his vest pocket. "If he is ever up for Congress, I'll vote for him."

It would make too long a story to tell of all the wonderful preparations that were made for the party which was to be the event of the season, or how much Vinnie was benefited by the intimacy with the Turners, who were the nicest kind of people.

The important day arrived, and the girls and boys met at Vinnie Dean's about four o'clock in the afternoon, and were received in the sitting-room, where they laid aside their hats and fixed their frizzes (the girls did), and were prepared to have a good time.

Mrs. Dean had asked Tad to be master of ceremonies, as Arthur was too young for such service, and Tad proved himself equal to the emergency.

He was a great mimic, and amused the company with imitations of Dutch, French, and Irish characters, and was so clever in giving the dialect of each that his anecdotes were received with uproarious laughter.

After an hour of such fun, the merry boy covered his face with a comical mask, and requested "dat all de congregation would jine hands by twos and twos, and peramberate around de kentry for de benefit ob dem fokes what ain't in der percession."

Laughingly they obeyed his command, Gussie and Vinnie taking the head of the column, their eyes dancing with merriment, and their actions betraying that they knew more than they were going to tell. Tad turned the mask around to the back of his head, took a whistle out of his pocket, and began playing "The Rogue's March," which started the "congregation" of twenty off at a lively pace.

Imagine their surprise when they entered Mrs. Turner's grounds and saw the arrangements made for out-of-door sports.

Mrs. Turner was in an easy-chair on the porch, and gave them a smiling greeting, which Tad in a moment returned by getting his troops into line, and giving her a military salute. And then the fun began. Everybody was anxious to learn lawn tennis, and for an hour or so little was heard but the batting of balls and the cries that are a part of the game. Some enjoyed the swing, and others sat on the grass under the trees, or walked about with arms interlaced.

Gussie was everywhere, and at a signal from her, six of the larger girls took their places on the lawn, facing the house, and ready to have a "fan drill." This was a surprise to Vinnie Dean and her mother, who sat beside Mrs. Turner on the porch, and for the time being the lawn tennis court was abandoned.

The six girls were in white; three of them had red fans, three blue. Gussie acted as Captain, and her fan was of both colors, her dress being also red and blue. The orders were given so nicely and obeyed with such precision that even Tad was surprised. He had no idea that girls could be so smart, or had so much knowledge of military affairs.

As they stood in line each girl held her fan closed at her side.

"Carry fans!" said Captain Gus. The fans were brought to the shoulder.

"Present fans!" They were struck on the left hand with a unanimous sound.

"Open fans!" They were spread with a rush.

"Rest fans!" They were closed with a snap, and returned to the right side. Then there were the "bashful flutter," "angry flutter," "scornful flutter," and a variety of other movements not set down in any military tactics.

The audience were delighted, and for some time after the drill the snapping and fluttering of fans continued.

When Tad blew the whistle there was a general start, for it was an afternoon of surprises.

In single file the company marched back to "The Deanery," where they were received by Vinnie's mother, and regaled with cakes, bonbons, and ice-cream. At the close of the repast each girl and boy was presented with a German bonbon containing a paper cap or mantle, some of which were very becoming to their wearers.

As it began to grow dark preparations were made for a general breaking up, which Tad prevented by calling his recruits together, and marching them back to his own house, where they found the lawn illuminated with colored lamps, and looking "just like fairy-land." Then they danced and sang and played games until they were tired, and by nine o'clock the party was over.

Vinnie thanked Tad and Gussie, who thanked her in return, all three declaring they had had a "perfectly lovely," "splendid," and "magnificent" time; and it was such a co-operative affair that to this day Vinnie is in doubt whether it was her birthday party or Gussie's. It was such a funny thing to borrow a lawn! But Tad and Gussie thought it an excellent arrangement, and told Vinnie that whenever she gave a birthday party they should expect to do their part of the entertaining, and Vinnie begins to think that, after all, she must have been born under a lucky star even if it was in the dog-days; for it is the luckiest thing in the world to have friends who are willing and ready to put themselves out in order to do us a favor.

MISS DELPHINA'S SCHOOL.