“Did she tell you that?” “Not in those words. You know Dorinda. But what amounts to that. I am sure the Denboro people are very proud of you.” I thought of my “popularity” and the admiration of my “public spirit” as manifested in the attentions of Captain Jed and Eldredge and their followers, and I turned my head away so that she might not see my face. “And I am glad you are going to the strawberry festival. I can't remember when you attended such a function before. Boy--” “Yes, Mother.” “There isn't any reason, any special reason, for your going, is there?” “Why, what do you mean?” “I mean--well, you are young and I did not know but, perhaps, some one else was going, some one you were interested in, and--and--” I laughed aloud. “Mother!” I said, reproachfully. “Why not? I am very proud of my handsome boy, and I know that--” “There! there! I haven't noticed that my beauty is so fascinating as to be dangerous. No, Mother, there is no 'special reason' for my going to-night. I promised George Taylor, that was all.” “Well, I am sure you will have a good time. Kiss me, Boy. Good-night.” I was by no means so sure of the good time. In fact, I loitered on my way to the village and it was well past eight o'clock when I paid my fifteen cents admission fee to Elnathan Mullet at the gate of the church grounds and sauntered up the slope toward the lights and gaiety of the strawberry festival. The ladies of the Methodist society, under whose management the affair was given, were fortunate in their choice of an evening. The early risen moon shone from a cloudless sky and there was so little breeze that the Japanese lanterns, hung above the tables, went out only occasionally. The “beauty and elite of Denboro”--see next week's Cape Cod Item--were present in force and, mingling with them, or, if not mingling, at least inspecting them with interest, were some of the early arrivals among the cottagers from South Denboro and Bayport. I saw Lute, proudly conscious of his new lavender trousers, in conversation with Matilda Dean, and I wondered who was the winner in that wordy race. Captain Jedediah strutted arm in arm with the minister. Thoph Newcomb and Alvin Baker were there with their wives. Simeon Eldredge had not yet put in an appearance but I knew that he would as soon as the evening mail was sorted. I found Nellie Dean in charge of a table, and George Taylor seated at that table. I walked over and joined them. “Good evening, Nellie,” said I. “Well, George, here I am, you see.” He shook my hand heartily. “I see you are,” he said. “Good boy! How does it seem to splash into society?” “I haven't splashed yet. I have only just arrived.” “Oh, trying the feel of the water, hey? Guess you won't find it very chilly. As a preparatory tonic I'd recommend strawberries and cream. Nellie, get Ros a saucer of those genuine home-raised berries, why don't you?”