They lifted out the quaint, old-fashioned clothes, and found there were both men’s and women’s garments among them.

“Where do you suppose they came from?” asked Marjorie.

“Grandma said some old relative in Philadelphia sent her the chest, some time ago, but she’s never opened it.”

They tried on various costumes, and pranced around the attic, pretending they were ladies and gentlemen of bygone days.

Finally King tried on a woman’s dress.  It just fitted him, and when he added a silk Shaker bonnet and a little shoulder shawl, the effect was so funny that Marjorie screamed with laughter.

“All you want,” she said, “is some false hair in the front of that bonnet, and you’ll be a perfect little old lady.”

Then Marjorie ran down to Grandma, and asked her for some of her false puffs, and getting them, flew back to the attic again, and deftly pinned them inside of King’s bonnet, transforming him into a sweet-faced Quaker lady.

Then Marjorie arrayed herself as another Quaker lady, drawing her hair down in smooth bands over her ears, which greatly changed the expression of her face, and made her look much older.  Each carried an old-fashioned silk reticule, and together they went downstairs.  After parading before their admiring relatives, they decided to play a joke on Eliza.  She had not yet seen them, so they slipped downstairs and out the front door, and then closing it softly behind them, they rang the bell.

Eliza came to the door, and utterly failed to recognize the children.

“Does Mrs. Sherwood live here?” asked King, in a thin, disguised voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Eliza, not knowing the children, “but—­” gazing in surprise at the quaint, old-fashioned dresses and bobbing bonnets.

“Please tell her her two aunts from Philadelphia are here,” said Marjorie, but she could not disguise her voice as well as King, and Eliza suddenly recognized it.

“Two aunts from Phillydelphy, is it?” she said.  “More likes it’s too loonytics from Crazyland!  What will ye mischiefs be cuttin’ up next!  But, faith, ye’re the bonny ould ladies, and if ye’ll come in and take a seat, I’ll tell the missus ye’re here.”

But, having fooled Eliza, the fun was over in that direction, and the Quaker ladies trotted away to make a call on Carter.

Just at first he didn’t know them, and thought the two ladies were coming to see him.  But in a moment he saw who they were, and the good-natured man entered at once into the game.

CHAPTER X

CALLING AT THE SCHOOLHOUSE

“Good-morning, ladies,” he said, bowing gravely, “I’m very pleased to see you.  May I ask your names?”

“Mrs. William Penn and Mrs. Benjamin Franklin,” said Marjorie, “and we have come to look at your flowers.”

“Yes, ma’am; they do be fine this year, ma’am.  Happen you raise flowers yourself?”