"Peace Greenfield," answered Cecile, almost too amazed for speech, for this was the first time she herself had ever heard the young whistler. "Father calls her the dearest little nuisance in town. She is one of the most original pieces I ever saw in my life--always into mischief, and always trying to help someone. But truly, I had no idea she could whistle like that. Mr. Strong, what do you think of it?" "She is doing splendidly!" he whispered enthusiastically. "She is a regular genius at it. Why, a year ago she came to me and begged _me_ to teach her." "So she is a pupil of yours?" asked Mrs. Sherrar, as much enchanted with the musician as were her young people. "Not exactly. I helped her what I could, but I think most of the credit belongs to Mike O'Hara and the birds in the woods. He set her to imitating them; and she is an apt mimic, you will find. Clap with all your might." The very rafters rang with the applause of the enthusiastic audience, as the small whistler took her seat among her mates on the platform, and she was forced to give another selection, and a third. Allee came to her aid in the fourth, and sang to a whistled accompaniment, but the applause was more tremendous and insistent than before; and poor, weary Peace rose to her feet for the fifth time, but instead of pouring forth the torrent of melody they expected, she faced the audience belligerently, and cried in exasperation, "My pucker is tired out and my throat aches. Do you 'xpect me to stand here all night? Victor Sherrar will play on his cornet now and then you can go home." "Mamma," whispered Frances, while her brother was rendering the closing number of the program, "I simply must have those two tots at my party next week. They will be a novelty and everyone is sure to like them. Cecile thinks I can borrow them all right, seeing that it is to be Saturday night." "Well, we'll see," smiled the mother indulgently, as the crowd broke up and departed, while Peace and Hector divided the spoils in the corner. "She surely is an interesting specimen, and it was worth ten times the money just to hear her squelch her audience. Where is Brother Strong?" He was interviewing the brown-eyed girl, who, with her money in hand, was about ready to follow her companions for home; and they clustered around the little group by Hector's table just in time to hear Peace's dismayed voice cry, "You're fooling! I didn't believe that of _you_. Why, Mr. Strong, I read it myself on the poster!" "Where? What poster?" "That big one up on the corner back of this house. Allee and me were picking gentians when we saw it. Didn't we, Allee?" "But, Peace, that was last year's sign. There hasn't been a circus in town this summer, and there isn't going to be. It is past circus time." "Are you sure?" she faltered, opening her fist and looking tragically at the pile of nickels and dimes she held.