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in the other attic room are almost as pretty,” Honey said. “They’re older, and our show
is
an antique show. Of course they have to be glued here and there, and stained. Maybe some of the chairs have to be recovered. Why don’t we go and look at them? I’ve only looked through the cubbyhole door, myself.”
    “I have to dust the house first,” Trixie said. Her mother looked at her in amazement to think she had remembered.
    “We’ll help you, won’t we, Diana? Jim’s waiting for us at the house,” Honey said. “Where are Brian and Mart?”
    “In town with Brian’s jalopy getting it fixed,” Trixie said. “Maybe they will be here by the time we finish dusting.”
    “They are here now,” Bobby announced. He had just opened the back door to ask his mother for a cooky. “Brian’s car sounds so smooth now—just listen!”
    They listened as Brian whirled the car around and backed it into the garage. It did not sound much louder than a cement mixer. The girls, hurrying around the house to finish the dusting, thought it sounded wonderful. They loved Brian’s old car almost as much as he did.

    “Is there anything the boys have to do for Daddy?” Trixie asked, gathering the dustcloths and putting them in the broom closet.
    “No,” her mother answered. “This is one Saturday they haven’t a thing to do. I mean outside of regular chores. They were going to wash the station wagon but it’s too cold a day for that.”
    “Then may we go over to the Manor House and explore the attic? Did you hear that, Brian?” she asked her brother. “And Mart? There are some pieces of old furniture and other things in the Wheeler attic that Mrs. Wheeler said we could have for our show. Shall we go over and explore the attic now?”
    “What’s keeping us?” Mart asked and picked his little brother up and put him on his shoulder.
    “Me, too?” Bobby asked.
    “I’m afraid not today, lamb,” Trixie said. “We’re going to be pretty busy.”
    “Let him come, too,” Honey said. “Miss Trask will read to him, or Regan will take him out to his apartment over the stable.”
    “Gee whiz, thanks, Honey,” Bobby said and struggled down from Mart’s shoulder.
    “Mrs. Belden, if you don’t mind, Miss Trask said toask you if they could all stay for lunch. She said it would just be hot dogs. May they?”
    “I think so. Trixie, take Bobby up to his room and change his shirt, please. It seems as though the Belden children are always eating at your house, Honey.”
    “We come here more often, Mrs. Belden. Mother has all your recipes in a box at home, but she says Cook never makes them taste as good as you do.”
    “If I looked as pretty as your mother does,” Mrs. Belden answered, “I’d never put a foot inside the kitchen.”
    “There isn’t a movie actress who can hold a candle to you, Moms,” Mart said and kissed her.
    “Flattery will get you nowhere,” his mother said, blushing. “Try to be home by four o’clock, all of you. Your father will be here then. He’s going to bring that film we took at home on Christmas when you were at the dude ranch.”
    “We’ll try to be on time, Moms. Do you know,” Trixie put her arm around her mother, “that was one thing we could hardly stand—being away from Crabapple Farm at Christmas.”
    At the Manor House Regan met Bobby and took him by the hand to go to his apartment.
    “Tell me my riddle,” Bobby begged. “You always tell me good riddles.”
    “What has three keys but can’t open locks?” Regan asked, his freckled face amused.
    “That’s a hard one,” Bobby said. “It’s not my skate key … it’s not our door key … what’s the answer, Regan?”
    “A zoo. It has a
monkey
, a
donkey
, and a
turkey
,” Regan said. “Tell the other kids good-by, Bobby.”
    Honey led the Bob-Whites up the two flights of stairs to the attic. They had to go through a trap door to get into the room over the library. Cobwebbed boxes and furniture were stacked