Patty was right when she called the Barlows a funny family, for their spirits were irrepressible, and each day, from morning till night was filled with jokes and absurdities accompanied or followed by gales of laughter.

But they were heedless, forgetful people, and the whole household showed an utter lack of systematic management.

Nothing was ever to be found in its place; meals were served at any hour when old Hopalong got them ready. Sometimes the market orders were neglected and there was almost nothing to eat, and then again there was such an overstock that much had to be wasted. The children were allowed to do exactly as they chose, and were never reproved; but if their own mischief led them into misfortune, or their pranks turned out disastrously, they were expected to stand the consequences bravely, and look for little or no sympathy from their elders.

Patty had not been at the Hurly-Burly many days before she discovered that its proportion of order and regularity was entirely too small. To be sure, in the Fleming family it had been too large; but she thought there must be a happy medium, a state of things whereby one could expect the ordinary events of daily life to come in due course, without, however, living as if by clockwork. You see Patty was becoming a very wise little girl, for she was profiting by her varied experiences, and trying to learn the best way to take care of her father's house and make it a real home for him. Sometimes she felt this responsibility very greatly, and longed for some motherly, housewifely friend to talk with about it.

But Aunt Grace, though loving and affectionate, was no help in such matters.

"Nonsense, child," she would say, "don't worry about your housekeeping; why, the house will keep itself, if you let it alone. And you're too young to be bothered with a weight of domestic care, anyway. Now run off and play with Bob and Bumble. Go for a row or a drive and let the breeze blow all such worries out of your little noddle."

So Patty ran away and played with her cousins, and they did have jolly good times.

There were so many nice things to do; fishing sailing, bathing, boating, driving, golf, tennis, and all sorts of outdoor amusements were at their disposal.

The Barlow twins, Nan Allen and Patty made a gay quartette, and if they desired a larger party, there were plenty of neighbors ready to join in their fun.

One warm afternoon, Patty and Bumble sat in a hammock swung under the trees, while Bob sprawled on the grass near them.

"Girls," said he, "come on, let's go for a swim. The Smiths and the Enfields just went down towards the bath-houses, and there'll be a jolly crowd in the water."

"All right, let's go," replied his sister. "Where's Nan?"

"She's in the house somewhere," said Patty. "I'll go find her."

Patty ran into the house and looked in at the music-room door, as a beginning of her search, but there she saw such a startling sight that she stood spellbound, unable to go any further.

At the writing-desk sat a person whose head was entirely bald. Not a spear of hair was anywhere visible on the bare, pinky-white scalp, and the round head was smooth and shiny as a billiard-ball.

Then the head turned round and faced Patty, with rolling eyes and a weird grimace. But Patty looked so astounded and frightened that the face broke into a reassuring smile, and Nan's voice said:

"Why, Patty, don't be scared; it's only I. Didn't you know I wore a wig?

There it is, on that chair."

And sure enough, there was Nan's mop of frizzed, flaxen hair hanging on a chair-back.

"But," said Patty, coming nearer, and still unable quite to comprehend it all, "why don't you have any hair yourself?"

"Well, you see," said Nan, as she sealed and addressed the letter she had been writing, "I had typhoid fever just before I left home, and my hair came out so, that I had to have it all shaved off. So now I am wearing a wig until it grows again. But it is so warm to-day, I took my wig off for a few moments to rest my head."

Patty examined the wig with great interest.

"I think it's wonderful," she said, "is it just like your own hair was?"

"No, indeed, I wanted a change. My own hair is very dark, almost black, and perfectly straight. So I bought this Flaxie Frizzle wig for a change. It's becoming, don't you think so? I have a red wig too,—of short, curly auburn hair. Sometimes I wear that."

Patty watched Nan curiously, as she put the wig on, securing it to her head by invisible springs.

"I never saw anybody with a wig before," she said, "and it surprises me so; but I came to ask you to go swimming with us."

"Can't do it," said Nan; "I have two more letters to write, and then I'm going driving with the Perrys. They're to call for me at four o'clock, and it's after three now. You'll have to go without me this time."

"All right," said Patty, backing out of the room, for her eyes were still fixed on the wonderful wig.

Then she rejoined her cousins, and they all ran to the bath-houses.

They had a fine bath, and were about ready to come out of the water when

Nan appeared.

She was dressed in a fresh white piqué suit, with blue ribbons at her throat and belt, and was looking very pretty but decidedly disappointed.

She walked out to the end of the narrow wooden pier, and the swimmers came up to talk to her.

Patty didn't swim very well as yet, but she was learning, and Uncle Ted and

Bob said she was getting along finely.

"I thought you were going out with the Perrys," cried Bumble.

"I was,—" said Nan, "but they didn't come. I've been dressed and waiting for them half an hour, then I looked again at the note they sent me, and I made a mistake; it's to-morrow they asked me to go. So I came down here, and I wish I was in the water with you."

"Come on in," said Bob.

"Too much trouble to get into my bathing-suit."

"Don't do it," said Bumble; "we're coming out now, anyway. But the water is fine, to-day, isn't it, Patty?"

"Glorious!" gurgled Patty, as she floundered about in her frantic endeavors to swim. Suddenly, Nan snatched off her wig, and dropped it down on the dock.

Then with dramatic gestures, she wrung her hands, waved them above her head, and cried out in agonized tones:

"I am desperate! No longer can I bear this sad and weary life. I will end it!" Apparently in the last stages of despair, she strode to the end of the dock, and threw herself headlong into the water.

Patty was aghast, but Bob and Bumble were accustomed to Nan's mad tricks, and they shouted with laughter.

In a moment the bald head reappeared above the water, for Nan could dive and swim wonderfully well.

"I'm afraid my dress will get wet," she said, "but when I saw you all having such fun, I just couldn't help jumping in."

"Crazy Nan," said Bumble, "you've spoiled your clean dress, and you can't swim with your shoes on, anyway, can you?"

"Not very well," said Nan, regretfully, "and they're my best shoes, too.

But I don't care; I'll get a bath and have some fun."

Later on, the four young people, much refreshed and exhilarated, assembled in the music-room to wait for dinner.

Aunt Grace, whose sprained ankle was getting better, and who could now limp around with the aid of a crutch, was there too.

"Geranium Blossom! but I'm hungry," exclaimed Bob. "Mumsey, do you s'pose we're going to have any dinner to-night?"

"I think so, my boy," returned Mrs. Barlow, placidly, "but go and get a biscuit if you'd like one."

"I'll tell you what," said Nan, "let's have tea while we wait. There'll be plenty of time, for Eunice has just begun to lay the table for dinner."

"All right," said Bumble. "Patty, if you'll get the hot water, I'll cut up a lemon."

"But there aren't any lemons," said her mother. "I looked for one to-day, and they're all out."

"There aren't any biscuits, either," said Bob, coming back from a fruitless quest; "the box is empty."

"And there doesn't seem to be any sugar," said Nan, peering into the sugar-bowl on the tea-table.

"Well, I'll tell you what," said Bumble, "let's pretend to have tea. You know some people say, if you think you have anything, you have it."

"All right," said Patty, who dearly loved to pretend, "I'll make the tea."

So she pretended to measure out some tea from the caddy, and put it in the teapot. Then she poured imaginary water from the teakettle upon it, and covered the teapot tightly with the cosey. After allowing it a little time to "draw" she pretended to pour it into cups, in which Bumble had already placed imaginary sugar-lumps and bits of lemon.

Bob offered his services as waiter, and passed the cups to his mother and Nan, and also to imaginary guests, who, he pretended, were sitting on the chairs and sofa.

"This tea is delicious," said Aunt Grace, stirring in her empty cup, and sipping from her empty spoon.

"Yes," said Patty, "it is real Russian tea. Do have some more, won't you?"

"Indeed, I will," said Aunt Grace, and Patty poured her another empty cupful.

"Pass the biscuit, Bumble," said Bob, and his sister carried around the empty biscuit-jar, while the guests helped themselves to nothing.

Uncle Ted came in in the midst of the tea joke, and drank several cups of air, until Patty finally peeped into the teapot, and said, "You'll all have to stop, for there isn't any tea left."

Bob carried the cups back to the tea-table, and all declared they had had a very nice tea-party.

"But why don't you have a tea-party, girls?" said Uncle Ted, "a real one, I mean. Invite all the neighbors and have a nice spread. I'll decorate a bit with Japanese lanterns, and we'll make it a general festivity."

"Oh, lovely!" cried Bumble, "if mamma is well enough to stand the excitement."

"Aunt Grace needn't have any of the trouble," said Nan. "I'll order things, and help get the house ready. We girls will do all the work, and Aunt Grace can just be an invited guest."

"Let's make it a lawn-party," said Bob, "and we'll have supper served in a tent."

"Let me see," said Uncle Ted, "to-day is Monday. There's no use waiting too long, and the moon is nearly at its full now. Suppose we have the party on Thursday; can you all be ready by that time?"

"Oh, yes," said Nan, "there's nothing much to do. Let's write the invitations to-night."

So during dinner, which was finally announced, they completed their plans for a garden-party from five o'clock to ten Thursday evening; and after dinner Nan wrote the invitations, and Patty addressed them, while the rest discussed and decided who should be invited to the party.

CHAPTER XV
THE LAWN-PARTY

The next day Patty announced her willingness to do anything she could to assist in the preparations for the lawn-party; and Aunt Grace kissed her fondly, and said she was a dear little helper, and they would be only too glad to make use of her services.

But the day passed by and nothing was done. Everybody went for a swim in the morning, and in the afternoon Nan went driving, and Patty and the twins were invited to a neighbor's to play tennis. Then in the evening they all went for a moonlight sail.

After they returned, Patty ventured to remind her procrastinating relatives that there was very little time left in which to prepare for the various entertainments they had suggested.

"Jumping grasshoppers!" exclaimed Bob whose expletives were often of his own invention, "I meant to set old Dil at work to-day, clearing a place for a tent. Dad, we must go over to the city to-morrow, and get a tent, and some lanterns and flags. We want to make the place look gay and festive."

"Yes, we'll go," said his father, heartily, "and the girls can go with us, if they like."

"We do like," cried Bumble, "and after we buy the things, won't you take us to the Zoo, to see the baby hippopotamus?"

"But," said Patty, "I think we ought to stay at home and help Aunt Grace."

"No, no," said her aunt, "there's nothing much to do; I'll get somebody in to help Hopalong make cakes and jellies, and we can leave the house decorations until Thursday."

"Yes, that will be best," said Nan, "for to-morrow I'm going over to

Montauk Point for the day, but I'll help all day Thursday."

"We'll all work with more enthusiasm when the day of the party comes," said

Aunt Grace, "and now run along to bed, all of you."

Next day the family rose late, and breakfast was much later, so that it was noon before they started for New York.

Then Bob proposed that they go to the Zoo first, and do the shopping afterwards. This they did, and the result was, that, as the animals were so interesting, after they had seen them all it was too late to go to the shops.

"Whew! I'd no idea it was so late," said Uncle Ted, looking at his watch; "but never mind. We'll go home now, and I'll telegraph early in the morning, and the tent and lanterns can be sent over at once, and we can easily get them put up in time."

When they reached home they found Aunt Grace entertaining some friends who had come to spend the day. They were delightful people, and Aunt Grace had found them so absorbing that she had entirely forgotten to send for an assistant to prepare dainties for the party.

But nobody seemed to mind, and Patty concluded it was not her place to comment on the way things were going, at least, not to the Hurly-Burly people themselves.

But when she wrote that night to her father, she said:

"I'm glad you didn't describe my aunts to me, but let me discover their traits for myself. For, really, I never would have believed a family could act like the Barlows. They are out of proportion every way, but, after all, I can't help loving them, for they are such dear, kind people, and they mean to do right, only they never do anything."

But as the next day was Thursday, and some things had to be done, everybody began to hustle and bustle and fly around generally.

Uncle Ted sent to New York by a special messenger for a tent, and a lot of lanterns and gay bunting, and succeeded in getting them soon after noon. Then he and Bob and old Dil put the tent up, and hung the lanterns along the veranda and among the trees.

Nan drove all around the country trying to find a cook to assist Hopalong, but as none was to be found, Aunt Grace had to go down to the kitchen and make some of the cakes herself.

Nan and Bumble made sandwiches and squeezed lemons, and somehow the time slipped away until it was four o'clock, and the house was not yet decorated and the ice cream hadn't arrived from New York. "Nan, you and Patty fix the flowers, and I'll take the trap and fly down to the station and see if the ice cream isn't there," said Bumble, who was very warm and tired, but who kindly offered to do the most unpleasant errand.

"All right," said Nan, and Bumble drove off in a hurry. That morning the girls had gathered a quantity of wild flowers and vines for decorations, and Bumble said she had put them in water, but nobody knew where. So they hunted in every place they could think of, but to no avail. Bob helped them and they searched the kitchen, the cellar, and even the barn, but no flowers could they find. So, as it was nearly five o'clock they gave it up and ran up-stairs to dress for the party.

And then Patty discovered that the bath tub was filled with the missing flowers. At risk of being caught by the guests in their every-day attire, Nan and Patty flew down-stairs and hastily arranged the flowers as well as they could, and then returned to make their toilettes.

It was now after five, but fortunately no guests had yet arrived.

"Nobody will come before half-past five, anyway," said Nan, as they hastily scrambled into their frocks.

"They may," replied Patty, "there comes somebody now; oh, it's Bumble."

Bumble came in, panting and breathless.

"I had to bring the ice cream home with me," she said; "there was no one else to bring it from the station. Wasn't it lucky I went over?"

"Yes, indeed," said Patty, "and now, Bumble dear, rest yourself a little.

Nan and I will receive the guests. Aunt Grace is still in the kitchen."

"Yes," said Bumble, "but the table isn't set yet. We ought to get out the plates and things. Eunice is frosting cakes, and she can't do it."

"Well, I can do it now," said Patty. "I'm all ready, if you'll just tie my sash. Nobody is here yet, so I may have a few minutes at least."

But when Patty reached the dining-room the scene was appalling. In the hurry, nobody had found time to clear away the luncheon dishes, and the extension table must be made longer and really there was an hour's work there for somebody.

Patty called Bob to help her, as everybody else was so busy, and the good-natured boy left what he was doing and came to his cousin's assistance.

It was six o'clock before everything was in readiness and the family gathered on the veranda to rest themselves and await their guests.

"Seems to me they're getting pretty fashionable," said Bob; "it's an hour after the time set, and nobody's here yet."

"Well, it's a warm day," said Aunt Grace, fanning herself, "and nobody likes to start out early in the afternoon." But after another half-hour passed and still nobody came, they all began to think it rather queer.

"Perhaps they've boycotted us," said Uncle Ted, "and don't mean to come at all."

"I should think the Perrys would be here by this time," said Nan. "I meant to speak to them about it yesterday, and ask them to be sure to come early, but I forgot it."

"Did we invite the Harlands?" said Bob.

"I can't think whether we did or not," said Bumble. "I know we were undecided about them. But we asked the Graysons, and here they come now."

"Well, I'm glad somebody's coming," said Nan; "but, no,—they aren't turning in, they're driving by!"

"Sure enough," said Bob; "mean old things,—if they couldn't come, they might at least have sent regrets."

"Here are the Stanton girls, anyway," said Patty, as two young ladies came walking towards them.

Elsie and Mildred Stanton came up to the group on the veranda with a slightly embarrassed air.

"Good-evening," said Mildred; "you look as if you were going to have a lawn-party."

"Why, we are," said Bumble, "if anybody comes to it. I'm glad you've arrived, anyway, Come in."

"But,—we weren't invited," said Elsie, a little stiffly. "We came over on an errand."

"Indeed you were invited," said Bumble, warmly. "Do you suppose I'd leave you out, my dearest chums? But really, didn't you get an invitation? How funny! They were sent out on Tuesday."

"No," said Elsie, "but if it was a mistake, and you meant to invite us, it's all right. But we didn't know it, you see, so we're not in party frocks. As nobody else is here yet, I think we'll run home and dress up a bit, and then come back again."

"All right," said Bumble, knowing her guests would feel more comfortable if suitably dressed,—and they lived near by. "Skip along, girls, and hurry back."

After they had gone it was nearly seven o'clock, and nobody else appeared. Great consternation was felt by all, and suddenly Patty said, "Who mailed those invitations?"

"Bumble did," said Bob.

"No, I didn't," said Bumble, "I thought you attended to it. Why, Bob, I asked you particularly to look after them."

"I didn't hear you," said Bob; "do you suppose—"

But Patty had already run into the house and returned with her hands full of the invitations to the party.

"Oh," groaned everybody, quite overcome by the calamity.

Nan was the first to recover herself.

"There's only one thing to do," she said; "we must go around and pick up as many guests as we can in a hurry. It won't do to let all this nice garden-party go to waste. Bob and I will take the runabout, and Bumble, you and Patty can take the trap, and we'll scour the country as far as possible."

In a few minutes the two turnouts dashed away in opposite directions, and all the near-by neighbors were bidden to come to the garden-party at once.

Much laughter and fun was caused by the sudden and peremptory invitations, which were, for the most part, gladly accepted.

When the guests finally arrived, the party was a grand success, though of much smaller proportions than was originally intended. The gayly-lighted veranda was a fine place for dancing and games, and supper, served in the tent, was very novel and attractive.

As Nan said, after the party was over, "It was just perfect, except that we couldn't invite the ones that lived at any distance."

But Uncle Ted said, "Never mind, we'll have another party, and invite them; and I'll see to mailing the invitations myself."

"Oh, ho," laughed Nan, "then we needn't even get ready for the party, for you'll never remember to post them."

At which Uncle Ted called her a saucy minx, and sent them all to bed.