They mounted the horses in the merry-go-rounds, and tried each one several times.  Elizabeth wondered why anybody desired this sort of amusement, and after her first trip would have been glad to sit with her grandmother and watch the others, only that the old lady seemed so much to desire to have her get on with the rest.  She would not do anything to spoil the pleasure of the others if she could help it; so she obediently seated herself in a great sea-shell drawn by a soiled plaster nymph, and whirled on till Lizzie declared it was time to go to something else.

They went into the Old Mill, and down into the Mimic Mine, and sailed through the painted Venice, eating candy and chewing gum and shouting.  All but Elizabeth.  Elizabeth would not chew gum nor talk loud.  It was not her way.  But she smiled serenely on the rest, and did not let it worry her that some one might recognize the popular Miss Bailey in so ill-bred a crowd.  She knew that it was their way, and they could have no other.  They were having a good time, and she was a part of it for to-day.  They weighed one another on the scales with many jokes and much laughter, and went to see all the moving pictures in the place.  They ate their lunch under the trees, and then at last the music began.

They seated themselves on the outskirts of the company, for Lizzie declared that was the only pleasant place to be.  She did not want to go “way up front.”  She had a boy on either side of her, and she kept the seat shaking with laughter.  Now and then a weary guard would look distressedly down the line, and motion for less noise; but they giggled on.  Elizabeth was glad they were so far back that they might not annoy more people than was necessary.

But the music was good, and she watched the leader with great satisfaction.  She noticed that there were many people given up to the pleasure of it.  The melody went to her soul, and thrilled through it.  She had not had much good music in her life.  The last three years, of course, she had been occasionally to the Academy of Music; but, though her grandmother had a box there, she very seldom had time or cared to attend concerts.  Sometimes, when Melba, or Caruso, or some world-renowned favorite was there, she would take Elizabeth for an hour, usually slipping out just after the favorite solo with noticeable loftiness, as if the orchestra were the common dust of the earth, and she only condescended to come for the soloist.  So Elizabeth had scarcely known the delight of a whole concert of fine orchestral music.

She heard Lizzie talking.

“Yes, that’s Walter Damrosch!  Ain’t that name fierce?  Grandma thinks it’s kind of wicked to pernounce it that way.  They say he’s fine, but I must say I liked the band they had last year better.  It played a whole lot of lively things, and once they had a rattle-box and a squeaking thing that cried like a baby right out in the music, and everybody just roared laughing.  I tell you that was great.  I don’t care much for this here kind of music myself.  Do you?” And Jim and Joe both agreed that they didn’t, either.  Elizabeth smiled, and kept on enjoying it.