"They expect to have a great entertainment this year," said Wheaton. He was sorry for the secrecy with which the names of the principal participants were guarded; he would have liked to say something to Miss Porter about it, but he did not dare, with Saxton listening. Moreover, he was not sure that she had consented to take part. "I suppose it's a good deal like amateur theatricals, only on a larger scale," suggested Saxton. "That's not taking the carnival in the right spirit," said Evelyn. "The word amateur is jarring, I think. We must try to imagine that King Midas really and truly comes floating down the Missouri River on a barge, supported by his men of magic, and that they are met by a delegation of the wise men of Clarkson, all properly clad, and escorted to the local parthenon, or whatever it is called, where the keys of the city are given to him. I'm sure it's all very plausible." "But I don't see," said Saxton, "why all the western towns that go in for these carnivals have to go back to mythology and medieval customs. Why don't they use something indigenous,--the Indians for instance?" "They're too recent," Evelyn answered. "The people around here--a good many of them, at least--were here before the savages had all gone. And those whose fathers and mothers were scalped might take it as unpleasantly suggestive if a lot of white men, dressed up as Indians, paraded themselves through the streets." "What was that about Indians?" demanded Mr. Porter, who had been busy exchanging reminiscences with Mrs. Whipple. "Why, there hasn't been an Indian on the place for twenty years!" "Oh yes, there has, father," said Evelyn. "It was only five years ago that there were two in this room. Don't you remember, when Warry had his hobby for educating Indian youth? He brought those boys up here for Christmas dinner." "I remember; and they didn't like turkey," added Mr. Porter. "They were hungry for their native bear meat." "It's too bad," said Raridan sorrowfully, "that a man never can live down his good deeds." Raridan liked to pretend that Clarkson society had a deep philosophy which he alone understood. He had fallen into his favorite role as a social sage for the benefit of the strangers, and Mrs. Whipple was correcting or denying what he said. He had assured the table that the supreme social test was whether people could walk on their own hardwood floors and rugs without taking the long slide into eternity. Philistines could buy hardwood floors, but only the elect could walk on them. "Society in Clarkson is easily classified," said Raridan readily, as though he had often given thought to this subject. "There are three classes of homes in this town, namely, those in which no servants are kept, those in which two are kept, and those in which the maids wear caps." "Warry is going from bad to worse," declared Mrs. Whipple. "I'm sure he could give in advance the menu of any dinner he's asked to."