"Not a single one of those things, not one, am I going to take with me! March right straight down-stairs!"
"But" began Robert.
"But me no buts!" replied Alice, regardless of the fact she was acting like Sara at her worst. "Get out! Go! And go quickly!"
Anger mounted hotly; she swept her offspring before her like leaves before the wind. She finished her packing with demoniac energy, and then, to gather together her shattered spirit, she left the packed and open trunks behind her and went forth from her home.
Once down at the seashore one would naturally suppose that one might forget Gladys Grayson. In fact, in the new environment all troubles seemed to have fallen from Alice's shoulders.
As the trunks were opened the children hung round with sniggers that boded no good. As Tom handed her things she disposed them in neat piles for putting away. It was only when a box of stone blocks, which had crushed a shirtwaist, came to view, and her husband exclaimed: "For Heaven's sake, Alice, why did you bring these things?" that Alice realized the origin of her offsprings' untimely mirth. As another box of blocks were discovered, as books were extracted from the less tightly packed trays, louder and louder rose their mirth. Robert laughed till tears rolled down his cheeks, and when from one of Alice's hats there emerged a baseball, he rolled backward and forward, extravagantly, upon the floor.
"I didn't pack one of these things, not one of them!" she exclaimed with animation which bordered on exasperation.
"No," said Robert. "No, we sneaked 'um on her. She was awful mean, Father, she wouldn't let us take
