At this everybody laughed and the waitresses clapped their hands. For them to clear those long tables would be a great deal of work, but to clear them in Mr. Harper’s way would take hardly any time at all. Everybody picked up all the dishes he could carry and left them in the kitchen. There were still salt-shakers and bread-and-butter plates and pickle dishes to remove, but that did not take very long. And then the old men took away the tables and put the settees in place. The hall was now ready for some other use, for a meeting or a lecture. The children ate sandwiches made of the meat and bread which was left and they also finished the doughnuts and the ice-cream. Then people began to wash the dishes. There were ten washers, and each had two girls to wipe for her, and it was amazing how fast those piles of dishes vanished. As soon as they were wiped, they were packed in baskets. Every church in town had loaned its crockery and silver for the Victory lunch. By four o’clock the dishes were all washed and sorted. Each church had its own. There was one spoon which nobody claimed. And by that hour the chaos in the park was changing into order. The patient people who were to make the gravel walks got a chance to do so. The centre of the meadow was now as smooth as a table. The land had been ploughed, harrowed, raked, fertilized, and planted with lawn seed. Then it had been rolled with a big iron roller drawn by two horses. Where rough, uneven sod had lain was now a smooth brown level. The flower-beds were planted and raked within an inch of their lives. All the shrubs and clumps of perennials were in place. You could imagine how beautiful the curved beds were going to look. The bulbs didn’t show, being tucked underground to sleep till Spring called them. Each flower-bed was outlined with turf, put in place and pounded down. Everybody watched the gravel paths being made. They waited until the last man raked himself out of the park. The sun’s rim was nearing the horizon. There were backs that ached and hands that showed blisters, for if you are used to sitting in an office, or writing for hours at a desk, it is not easy to spend a whole day digging dirt. Everybody was tired, but everybody was pleased and happy. The Victory Park was done! CHAPTER XI HALLOWE’EN Before many days the winds finished what work Jack Frost didn’t attend to himself. The leaves were neatly whisked from all the trees except the oaks and the evergreens. Oaks are cold trees. They keep most of their leaves on all winter and let them drop only when Spring sends word that she is on the way with a new gown for each. Such pretty secrets some of the trees revealed! Who suspected birds’ nests until the boughs were bare? In the gutters of the Westmore streets lay drifts of leaves through which the children loved to rustle on their way to school. The autumn air was full of the pleasant smell of their burning.