ndet had so graphically described than usual, for he bore two braces of

?" she asked, surp

e, for I had done all the hard work in bagging the birds; and O Sara, but he's a fine shot! Uncle Adam is tha

lau

, Morton! You shall have a supper fit for a king, now, and I, one goo

; and oh! I 'most forgot, when we came by Miss Zeba's, the pretty lady came out and said, 'Tell you

st. I begin to think people are judged more by the way they speak

d English, or, at least, that because you were so wise

he know of me?

and so on. Sara, I believe I'll go up-stairs and lie

call that good

ly, and before she could correct him again, the urchin made a gr

good as new in an hour's time, and I think few royal personages ev

arrived, quite curious over this orphaned

tretched for the gingham bonnet in his own, he had been secretly wondering in what way he could make his surmises certainties, without ungentlemanly intrusion;

t then to her stocking- darning, first sighted

ve you got the baby washed, and the braid

seated herself once more, with an attempt at composure, thoug

win,-Molly they do call her. What a chic little face it is! Do look with

bow, which set the young man's eyes to dancing, and entirely captivated madame, at which Sara appeared in the doorway, with her fine Greek head, and rare smile, to give them greeting. Then Morton turned from the fi

ra (the younger one with an acceleration of his heart-beats which rather surprised himself), the p

Molly and the baby, whose merry little outbursts soon won the two would-be fishermen from their discussion. Molly was just

st like a salmon-line!" she cried. "It's lots of fun to see him when we all get to

our bread at lunch (don't you like lobster-claws? They're splendid!), and he don't mind if we sometimes take 'em out in school- hours. He says

oung man broke in amid the laughter. "But I dou

ance, containing more of coquetry

ever saw! Sometimes, when I've waited 'most an hour before I looked 'round, it won't be five minutes by that clock! Miss Prue Plunkett's my Sunday-school teacher; and one Sunday when I had a cold, and my neck was so stiff I couldn't m

ves were, "I'm afraid you're talking too much." "Yes, she

back, laughing in

lds at the hotel, with their so fine costumes, and so of-this-world-weary airs, now? You have no doll-houses, my infants, no fine toys that m

ed at her with ro

le lobster and clam basins they knew about; and the countless shells for dishes, and fish-s

; all we want is time. Here I've wasted a whol

ister's side; and with a hand on one of those restless, twitching little shou

e village street it was fu

ties and classified most orderly," observ

broke out the young man, meaning something entire

e some vich are mos' rare of

e out of her thought, oblivious of what

eddar-head, Felicie; you mista

rilliant bird of a chil

o say chil

a family jar over nothing. Uncle's on geology, and auntie on babies; don'

press Sara into service to direct him in his search for treasures, while madame stayed with Molly and

r game was almost constantly on their table, while the overplus, sold to

erty behind the hospitable, self-respecting air of the little

truck up a trade in wild-flowers, delicate algae, and shells with Molly, buying all that the child could bring her (and the little girl

ll the wolf was kept decidedly at bay, and Sara felt every night like adding a special t