It will be observed from the advertisement that Merry-go-round Island, alias the Isle of Desserts, was now masquerading under a new name, which had been given it in the hope of obliterating all memories of its wandering past.

Being now a respectable stay-at-home island, stuck fast with each part of its coast true to its proper compass point, what more natural than that its roving youth should be treated as a closed book by its owners?  There it sat in the middle of the glinting river, its sturdy understructure reposing upon Waring’s reef.

Even at low ride the shallow water rippled about it.  At high tide the coy reef withdrew entirely within the briny deep, so that the unromantic and unsightly scow was not visible and the island stood in all its wild and floral beauty, a vision of picturesque delight for three or four hours each day at full tide.  From the mainland (some thirty feet distant according to a piece of string) the yellow dandelions could be seen dotting its geometric coast and occasionally some drowsy turtle, with neck extended, was visible, sleeping in the sun.

The only historic memento of Minerva Skybrow’s lawn party to be found upon the island now was the refreshment board, quite empty.  It is true that an explorer, delving among the rocks and crevices, might have found some fugitive stuffed olive or perchance a lost nut or raisin here and there.  But the feast of Dessert Isle was now a part of history.  Minerva’s little tent had been delivered to her (for Pee-wee could not eat that) and only the makeshift table which had supported the absconding repast remained.

This was now made into two long benches, supported by sticks driven into the ground.  It was intended that the overflow from this grandstand should sit on the grass.  These preparations completed, our hero, accompanied by Brownie and Billy, went ashore on Friday afternoon and edified the people on Main Street with an imposing display.

[Illustration:  Pee-wee becomes a sandwich man.]

They paraded up and down the sidewalk wearing large placards, the most striking of which was the one that almost completely obscured the diminutive form of our hero.  It was appropriately in the form of a sandwich of which he himself was the center, his head and legs protruding from it like the head and legs of a turtle.  Its glaring announcement seemed to suggest the literary style of Townsend Ripley.

CUT RATE CRUISES TO ALLIGATOR ISLE

SEE THE WILD SCOUTS AND THE BOAT RACES

ENJOY A SEA VOYAGE IN THE PALATIAL ROWBOAT ALLIGATOR

ROUND AND SQUARE TRIP TEN CENTS.

SAILINGS FROM GILROY’S FIELD.

CHAPTER XXVIII

IT PAYS TO ADVERTISE

On Friday night it rained and the Alligators were driven into their tent.  It rained all night and was still raining when the momentous Saturday dawned.  They were compelled to eat breakfast in their tent, the top of which was plastered with apple blossoms so that the khaki-colored fabric looked not unlike a brown wall paper with a floral design.