We gaily ripped every bed apart and nearly smothered ourselves in the process. Blankets and sheets were heaped in lumpy piles down the hall; Tico, our energetic terrier, became a squirming, wool-covered lump as he tunneled merrily. Angie rooted him out and locked him in the bathroom; then we went outside to shake the blankets. All that wild flapping of brightly colored cloth meant just one thing to Mukluk we wanted to play. He gathered himself into a fury comet, emitted a joyful yelp, and crashed hugely into our midst; blankets, girls, and dog tumbled in earsplitting confusion. Snarling cheerfully he grabbed and shook anything within reach, oblivious of whether it was cloth or flesh. By this time we were shrieking and laughing hysterically at him, but it didn't faze his heady revelry. He tore away and began racing in huge circles, which he broke periodically to charge us with the full impact of his 110 pounds, his mouth hanging open in a delighted canine grin. After two such attacks, we fled screaming for the deep freeze and climbed on top of it. He danced in front of us, begging us to come down and rocking the neighborhood with his throaty roars. At this point Beaver, Angie's crewcutted, guitar-strumming boy friend, who was practically a permanent fixture, sauntered into the light of the yard lamp. He leaned sarcastically against the shingles, viewing the scene with barely concealed mirth. But he soon took pity and held our squirming refugee from a dog pound, while we jumped down and resumed our shaking. He announced he had a three-day pass and had decided to spend it with us weren't we happy? As usual, Angie was overjoyed; and, as usual, I put him to work. While we waited for the sheets to dry, we attacked the kitchen. We were neck deep in last week's dishes when Lorraine slammed in declaring that she was never going home, as she had had another fight with her mother, and could she stay with us for awhile- She was my best friend, so naturally, rather than have her wander the streets doing heaven knows what, and because this wasn't the first time she had left home for good, I said, "Yes," and put her to work. With so many people around doing things, everything should have been finished with ease. Unfortunately, all we really managed to accomplish was a bigger mess. Mother came upon the scene while Beaver was dusting books with one of my good hand embroidered handkerchiefs, Angie was cleaning her bird cage and strewing seed from the living room to the bathroom; Lorraine was scattering pans over the floor under pretense of cleaning cupboards, Karen was apathetically polishing silver, and I was washing door knobs. She viewed with distinct destain what our unorganized efforts had accomplished and promptly marshalled everyone into work details, including the two boys whom she had found hiking down the road. Things proceeded comparatively smoothly until two dear friends, Sue and Harry, arrived with their three-year-old twins, Kit and Kevin. More confusion ensued as greetings were exchanged. Sue's mother was quite ill and they wondered if they could leave the kids with us for a few days. Mother's reaction was warm and spontaneous as she mentally counted how many we all ready had, "Why not?" Harry brought in a large suitcase, the children were admonished 12 to be good, kissed, hugged, adieus were exchanged, and we had two more. The next problem we faced was dinner. We had practically doubled our numbers, and, therefore, had to double our menu. But we were used to unexpected guests, so we broke out a few more pounds of weiners, stretched the chile with corn and peas, and enhanced the fresh milk with powdered. Since no one with food is allowed on the carpet, which is an innocent yellow, and our limited dining area threatened to overflow, the twins were parked in the bathtub, with Angie riding herd, and Tico glaring. He considers it his personal property-no one can even take a bath without his constant supervision. The rest of us ignored the table and enjoyed ourselves Japanese style on the kitchen linoleum. Then it was the dogs' turn to be fed. Mukluk gulped his ration and his small companion's; Tico didn't seem his ravenous self. We wondered why. Suddenly Angie came sobbing in with the remains of her pet turtle, Afghanistan. I tried to console her in typical big sister fashion and asked what happened to him. She moaned that she had just found him in this deplorable condition. I put my arm a-round her and we glared accusingly at the sympathetic family gathering. Tico hicced guiltily from under the piano. After he had been thoroughly chastised and banished, curly tail drooping, to the bathroom, we embarked again upon our assigned tasks. Mukluk stood gazing at us gravely, his huge tail calmly sweeping the table. A few broken dishes later, he was turned out to howl mournfully at our leaving him out of such gay doings. Finally, the house shone splendidly. (Nothing had escaped, even the birds had been bathed. Tico sat bale-fully glaring from a spotless corner, his soft wet coat shining. Mukluk was shivering and astonished. By this time it was 2:30 and mother suggested we retire. But no one knew where to lay his weary head, so a council was held to discuss our resources. Grant and Chuck generously offered their beds to Kit and Kevin as they had been waiting for a chance to try out their new sleeping bags, and Beaver was allotted his usual place on the couch. We now had a remainder of two beds, five females. Mother pleaded that she was the biggest, and therefore entitled to not more than one sleeping companion; besides, she used her ten votes given her as breadwinner and chairman. She selected 101-pound Angie to share a place of semi-comfort with her and we remaining three not-so small teenagers flipped coins for who got the middle. Complete chaos reigned for a time as ten varyingly powerful people vied for limited bathroom facilities. The boys, being no match for the opposite sex, ended up washing in the kitchen. We girls emerged horrible to look at, but satisfied in rollers and pincurls, with preparations for dry, normal, oily, or troubled skin disguising our features. Amid much giggling and muttering, thumpings and creakings, we settled down to the absorbing business of sleep. Just as I dozed off mother rousted me out for company while she drove to the airport. We arrived as a massive jet was pouring forth its passengers. Grandma walked gracefully down the ramp, 13