“It always is,” answered James uncomfortably.  “How are we going to fill it?”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking,” Ethel Brown said meditatively.  “It’s time we did something to earn something.”

“Everybody I’ve sold cookies to all winter seems to have stopped eating them,” complained Ethel Brown.  “I’m thinking of getting up a cooky sale to relieve my financial distress.”

“There’s an idea,” cried Tom.  “Why can’t we have a cooky sale—­with a few other things thrown in—­and use the proceeds for the decoration and furnishing of Rose House?”

“We’ve had so many entertainments; can we do anything different enough for the Rosemonters to be willing to come?”

“And spend?”

“I think the Rosemonters have great confidence in our getting up something new and interesting; ditto the Glen Pointers,” insisted Margaret who lived at Glen Point and knew the opinions of her neighbors.

“Where could we have it—­it meaning our sale or whatever we decide to have?”

“Why not have it here?  Let’s wait until the boys have the house all painted and whitewashed and colorwashed so it looks as fresh as possible, and then tell the town what it is we are trying to do this summer, and ask them over here to see what it looks like.”

“Good enough.  When they see that it’s good as far as it goes, but that our Fresh Air people will be mighty uncomfortable if they don’t have some beds to sleep in and a few other trifles of every day use, they’ll buy whatever we have to sell.  That’s the way it seems to me,” and Roger threw himself down on the grass before the front door with an air of having said the final word.

“Let’s ask the people of Rosemont to come to Rose House to a Rose Fete,” cried Ethel Blue, while every one of her hearers waved his handkerchief at the suggestion.

“I’ll draw a poster with the announcement on it,” she went on, “and we can have it printed on pink paper and the boys can go round on their bicycles and distribute them at every house.”

“We must have everything pink, of course.  Pink ice cream and cakes with pink icing—­”

“And pink strawberries—­”

“Not green ones!  No, sir!”

“And watermelons if we can get some that won’t make too much trouble for Dr. Hancock.”

“How are we going to serve them?  We can’t bring china way out here—­and we won’t have any for Rose House until after we give this party to earn it!”

“They have paper plates with pretty patterns on them now.  And if they cost too much we might get the plain ones and lay a d’oyley of pink paper on each one,” suggested Margaret.

“Probably that will be the cheapest and the effect will be just as good, but I’ll find out the prices in town,” promised Delia.

“I have a scheme for a table of fancy things,” offered Dorothy.  “Let’s have it under that tree over there and over it let’s hang a huge rose.  I think I know how to make it—­two hoops, the kind Dicky rolls, one above the other, the smaller one on top, and both suspended from the tree.  Cover them inside and out with big pink paper petals.”