Marjorie at Seacote | Page 9

some red and yellow. Sashes will do for
you boys, and I'll have,--well, I'll fix up a rig of some kind."
Marjorie was a diligent little worker when she chose to be, and that
afternoon she made a very creditable flag, showing a pail, red; on a
field, yellow. She made also sashes for them all, of red and yellow
cheesecloth, and she made herself a court train of the same material,
which trailed grandly from her shoulders.
Next morning the Sand Club assembled on the Maynards' veranda, to
march to Sandringham Palace.
Mrs. Craig had helped out the costumes of her royal children, and the
Grand Sandjandrum was gorgeous in a voluminous yellow turban, with
a red cockade sticking up on one side.
Sandow and the Sand Crab had soldier hats made of red and yellow
paper, and big sailor collars of the same colors.
The Sand Piper wore his sash jauntily with a huge shoulder knot, and
he, too, had a cockaded headgear.
Marjorie, as Queen Sandy, wore her trailing court robe and a crown of
yellow paper with red stars on it. She had a sceptre, and Sandow carried
the flag.
The Sand Piper marched ahead, playing on a tuneful instrument known
as a kazoo. Next came the Grand Sandjandrum, then the Queen, then
the Sand Crab, and finally, Sandow with the flag.
Slowly and with great dignity the procession filed out toward the

palace. King was playing the Star Spangled Banner, or thought he was.
It sounded almost as much like Hail Columbia,--but it didn't really
matter, and they're both difficult tunes, anyway.
Blithely they stepped along, and prepared to enter the palace with a
flourish of trumpets, as it were, when King's music stopped suddenly.
"Great Golliwogs!" he cried. "Look at that!"
"Look at what?" said Tom, who was absorbed in the grand march.
But he looked, and they all looked, and five angry exclamations
sounded as they saw only the ruins of the beloved Sandringham Palace.
Somebody had utterly demolished it. The low walls were broken and
scattered, the sand tables and chairs were torn down, and the throne
was entirely upset.
"Who did this?" roared Tom.
But as nobody knew the answer, there was no reply.
"It couldn't have been any of your servants, could it?" asked King of
the Craigs. "I know it wasn't any of ours."
"No; it wasn't ours, either," said Tom. "Could it have been your little
sister?"
"Mercy, no!" cried Marjorie. "Rosy Posy isn't that sort of a child. Oh, I
do think it's awful!" and forgetting her royal dignity, Queen Sandy
began to cry.
"Why, Mops," said King, kindly; "brace up, old girl. Don't cry."
"I'm not a cry baby," said Midget, smiling through her tears. "I'm just
crying 'cause I'm so mad! I'm mad clear through! How could anybody
be so ugly?"
"I'm mad, too," declared Tom, slowly, "but I know who did it, and it's

partly my fault, I s'pose."
"Your fault!" exclaimed Midget. "Why, Tom, how can it be?"
"Well, you see it was this way. Yesterday afternoon Mrs. Corey came
to call on my mother, and she brought Hester with her."
"That red-headed girl?"
"Yes; and she has a temper to match her hair! Mother made me talk to
her, and, as I didn't know what else to talk about, I told her about our
Sand Club, and about the Court to-day and everything. And she wanted
to belong to the club, and I told her she couldn't, because it was just the
Maynards and the Craigs. And she was madder'n hops, and she coaxed
me, and I still said no, and then she said she'd get even with us
somehow."
"But, Tom," said King, "we don't know that girl to speak to. We hardly
know her by sight."
"But we do. We knew her when we were here last summer, but, you see,
this year we've had you two to play with, so we've sort of neglected
her,--and she doesn't like it."
"But that's no reason she should spoil our palace," and Marjorie looked
sadly at the scene of ruin and destruction.
"No; and of course I'm not sure that she did do it. But she said she'd do
something to get even with you."
"With me? Why, she doesn't know me at all."
"That's what she's mad about. She says you're stuck up, and you put on
airs and never look at her."
"Why, how silly! I don't know her, but somehow, from her looks, I
know I shouldn't like her."
"No, you wouldn't, Marjorie. She's selfish, and she's ill-tempered. She

flies into a rage at any little thing, and,--well, she isn't a bit like you
Maynards."
"No! and I'm glad of it! I wouldn't want to be like such a stuck-up
thing!"
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