The children’s Uncle Joe was an architect. He was making some additions to Mrs. Horton’s house, and so he came up every little while to see how the work was getting on; and later, he was given the new Savings Bank to build. He often came on from New York for a few days and stayed with the Carters. All the children were delighted when he came, for he was just as nice as a child to play with. In fact, he was nicer, for he knew so much more. He was a great traveler, for he had been a Lieutenant in the army and had been across seas. He had traveled, also, in the United States, and there was hardly a State he had not stayed in. The children were never tired of hearing his stories about places and people. He had, too, a delightful way of inventing games, making them up out of his own head.

One rainy October afternoon, Alice and Peggy were sitting in the living-room when the telephone rang. Alice had Lady Janet curled up in her arms, and Peggy was reading aloud from “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.” Peggy flung down her book and ran to the telephone.

“Oh, Peggy,” said Diana’s plaintive voice, “it is so wet I have had to stay in all day; can’t you and Alice come and play with me?”

“I guess so,” said Peggy, who was always ready to go anywhere; “I’ll ask mother.”

“Don’t let’s go out, it is so wet,” said Alice, who was interested in the story.

“I’m going if mother’ll let me,” said Peggy.

Mrs. Owen had no objection, and, as Alice did not like to be left behind, she and Peggy put on their rubbers and raincoats.

Alice gave Lady Janet a parting hug. “You darling, I am going to see your mother,” she said; “shall I give her your love? Peggy, she is licking my hand,” said Alice.

The two children went out into the chilly October rain. Alice shivered, but Peggy was delighted to be out. She walked into every puddle she came to.

“You’ll get your feet wet,” said Alice.

“I’m just trying to see if it will go over my rubbers,” said Peggy. “Oh, it did that time—I didn’t think it would.”

“You’ve got your feet very wet,” said Alice.

“I know I have, but I can dry my shoes and stockings at Diana’s.”

Diana was sitting before the fire in her room with a book. She jumped up and flung her arms about Alice, who was nearer her, and then about Peggy.

“Peggy has got her feet wet,” said Alice anxiously. “She’ll have to put on some of your stockings while hers are drying.”

“I can’t get into Diana’s stockings,” Peggy said, as she looked down at her feet. “I’ll just sit in my bare feet until my shoes and stockings are dry.”

“Uncle Joe and the boys may come in. I’ll get you some of mother’s,” said Diana.

So Peggy was dressed in a pair of black silk stockings that were much too large for her, and a pair of bedroom slippers that were so big that she was afraid to walk for fear they would fall off. She liked the slippers very much, however, for they were such a pretty shade of blue, and they had black fur all around the edge.

It was early in the afternoon, so the children settled down for a long play. They were beginning to wish they could think of something else to do when Uncle Joe came in.

“How cozy you look,” said he. “Can you give a poor working-man a seat by the fire?”

Peggy who was nearest the fire, sprang up, forgetting all about her slippers.

“I think I see a bird in borrowed plumage,” said Uncle Joe. “Did you get your feet wet?”

“I walked into a mud-puddle on purpose, for the fun of it,” said Peggy. “I wanted to see if it would go over my rubbers. I didn’t think it would, but it did.”

“Oh, Uncle Joe, can’t we play the geography game?” said Diana. “Peggy has never played it.”

“I don’t like geography so very much,” said Alice.

“It’s just a game,” said Diana. “We have to see who can say the forty-eight States quickest. We say them like the alphabet, those beginning with A first, and the one who gets the A’s done first looks them up on the map, to see where they are. It’s lots of fun.”

“Diana likes it because she always beats Tom and Christopher,” said her uncle.

“Let’s begin,” said Diana, “one, two, three.”

But neither Peggy nor Alice could think of a single State beginning with A.

“There are three,” said Diana. “You can look them up on the map and find them.” She brought out an atlas and turned to a map of the United States.

Alice and Peggy pored over the map eagerly.

“I’ve found one,” said Peggy, “it’s Arizona.”

“Here is Alabama,” said Alice.

“Here, is another one, Arkansas,” said Peggy. “Now for the B’s.”

“There aren’t any B’s,” said Diana.

Tom and Christopher came in just then, and Peggy and Alice listened as the others played the game. Once in a while Peggy thought of a State beginning with the right letter, but, as a rule, she thought of the wrong States. Massachusetts would pop into her head when Uncle Joe was asking for I’s, and South Carolina when he wanted the K’s. It was quite discouraging, for the other children had played the game so much.

“This is only the first part of the game,” said Diana. “Uncle Joe has had us each trace a map of the United States, and then we play we have to live in one of the States that begins with the same letter our first name begins with; then we put the tracing over white cardboard and cut out our State, and we can paint it any color we like. We are going to put in the rivers and big towns by and by. I can’t live in any State but Delaware,” she said regretfully.

“There is only Pennsylvania for me to live in,” said Peggy.

“Alice can live in Arizona or Alabama or Arkansas,” said Christopher.

“I don’t want to live in any of them,” said Alice gently, with her sweetest smile. “I want to live just where I do live.”

“But New Hampshire doesn’t begin with an A,” said Peggy.

“I know it doesn’t, but I don’t want to live in any other State.”

“But it’s only a game,” said Peggy. “Don’t you want to play you live in nice Alabama where they have such warm winters, and there are such lots of cunning little black children?”

“No, I don’t. I want to cut out a map of New Hampshire and paint it pink.”

“But, Alice, you’ve got to play the game,” said Peggy.

“I’m going to play my own kind of game and cut out a map of New Hampshire and paint it pink.”

“If she doesn’t care to live in Alabama or Arizona or Arkansas, we might let her live in a State beginning with the first letter of her last name,” said Uncle Joe. “How do you feel about living in Ohio or Oklahoma or Oregon?”

“I don’t want to live in any of those States. I want to live in New Hampshire and paint it pink.”

“But you can’t,” Peggy insisted. “You’ve got to play the game.”

Alice looked up beseechingly at Uncle Joe. She smiled and showed her dimples. “Dear Uncle Joe,” she said sweetly, “can’t you fix the game some way so I can live in New Hampshire and paint it pink?”

Uncle Joe looked thoughtful. A bright idea occurred to him. “Alice, what word do the three last letters of your last name spell if you begin at the end and spell backwards?”

“New,” said Peggy, before Alice could speak.

“She can live in New Hampshire on that account,” said Uncle Joe.

“That isn’t fair,” said Peggy. “I ought to be able to live in New Hampshire.”

“You can if you like—or in New York, or New Jersey, or New Mexico.”

Peggy was dazzled by these opportunities for travel.

“It isn’t a bit fair,” said Christopher. “Poor Diana oughtn’t to have to live in Delaware when Peggy and Alice have such a lot of States to choose from.”

“It doesn’t seem quite fair,” Uncle Joe admitted. “I’ll have to let Diana live in a State beginning with a C if she prefers.”

“And I am C. C., so I don’t have much choice,” said Christopher.

“When I get my map of Delaware painted and fixed and I’ve lived there awhile, I’ll come and live in Colorado with you, Christopher.”

“I’m going to begin with Pennsylvania,” said Peggy. “I’m going to play the game in the right way. But where can Uncle Joe live? In Jersey with the New left off?”

“As I’m uncle to half the children I know, I feel justified in taking up my residence in the State of Utah,” he said.

“Mother,” Diana called out, as Mrs. Carter passed the door, “do come in; you can live in any of eight States, beginning with an M—Maine, Massachusetts—”

“My mother can, too,” Peggy interrupted. “Her name is Mary. What is your mother’s name?”

“Her name is Mary, too.”

The two little girls wondered at the coincidence.

“Tom can only live in Tennessee or Texas,” said Diana.

“I’m going to live in Texas,” said Tom. “Uncle Joe has been there. He said he saw a prairie fire once and it looked like the waves of the sea. And at the ranch where he was, the turkeys roosted in trees and the moon looked as big as a cart wheel.”

The children were soon busy tracing their States and cutting them out. Alice found New Hampshire so hard to do that she was sorry she had not chosen Alabama, but she would not let anybody know this on any account. She painted New Hampshire a delicate shade of pink. Peggy painted Pennsylvania a blue that shaded in with her blue frock. Diana painted Delaware green, and Tom chose crimson for Texas, the color of the college he hoped to go to some day.

“I was going to paint Colorado crimson,” said Christopher.

“You can’t,” said Tom. “I have chosen crimson.”

“Can’t I paint Colorado crimson, Uncle Joe?”

“If you like. I think I’ll paint Utah orange, so as to have as much variety as possible on the map.”

“That is a good idea,” said Christopher; “I’ll paint Colorado yellow.”

Alice and Peggy were so interested in the game that they played it every morning when they first waked up, and they got so they could say the forty-eight States while they were putting on their shoes and stockings. It amused them to see which States their different friends could live in.

They felt there were very few children and still fewer grown people who ought to be told the game. It was like a secret society. Some people were so scornful they would think it silly, and they did not care enough about most people to let them into the secret. Mrs. Owen thought it a good game, but she was too busy to play it. Age did not seem to make any difference. Old Michael, for instance, took to it very kindly.

Peggy sat in the wheelbarrow one day while he was raking leaves and she explained the game to him.

“You are very lucky,” she ended, “for you can live in so many States—Maine, Massachusetts—” she began; and she said over the whole eight, ending with Minnesota.

“I think I’ll try Minnesoty for a change,” said the old man. “I’ve a cousin who went out to St. Paul. Will you be my grandchild and come and keep house for me?”

“I’d love to, Mr. Farrell, but I have to live in Pennsylvania. I’m learning all about William Penn and Independence Hall in Philadelphia, and Betsy Ross, who made the first flag, so I can tell it to Uncle Joe when he comes back. And I have to read about New Hampshire to Alice, so I’m quite busy. Did you know it was called the Granite State, Mr. Farrell?”

“I have heard tell as much.”

“Oh, Mr. Farrell,” said Peggy hopping up, “do let me try to rake the leaves. They dance about as if they were at a party. What does Mrs. Farrell’s name begin with—can she go to Minnesota with you?”

“Her name is Hattie. I guess my old woman will have to stay right here in New Hampshire. It is hard to break up families that way. My old woman and I haven’t been separated for forty-two years, come Christmas.”

Miss Betsy Porter was another of Peggy’s friends who was greatly interested in the game. Peggy often dropped in to see her and her cat. Miss Betsy Porter always had something very good and spicy to eat. This time it was spice cake. Peggy was on her way back from the village with some buttons and tape for her mother, so she could not stop long. Miss Porter thought it a grand game.

“Only, I am a woman without a country,” she said. “There are no States beginning with B, and I can’t even come in on Elizabeth.”

“You can come in on your last name,” said Peggy. “You can live in Pennsylvania with me.”

“That is great. I went to Philadelphia once when I was a girl.” And she told the eagerly listening Peggy all about the Quaker city with its straight streets and its old buildings.

“I am afraid if your mother is in a hurry for those buttons and that tape,” said Miss Betsy, “you’d better be going home now, but some afternoon when you can stay longer I’ll read you a book about some of the signers of the Declaration of Independence.”

“What a lucky child I am to have my name begin with a P,” Peggy said. “There can’t be any other State as interesting as Pennsylvania.”