on the score of inapplicability to the question before her. Budge
went on:--

"An' wasn't he good to me today? Just cos I was forlorn, cos I
hadn't nobody to play with, an' wanted to die an' go to heaven, he
stopped shavin', so as to comfort me."

Mrs. Mayton had been thinking rapidly and seriously, and her heart
had relented somewhat toward the principal offender.

"Suppose," said she, "that I don't let my little girl go riding
with him any more?"

"Then," said Budge, "I know he'll be awful, awful unhappy, an'
I'll be awful sorry for him, cos nice folks oughtn't to be made
unhappy."

"Suppose, then, that I DO let her go," said Mrs. Mayton.

"Then I'll give you a whole stomachful of kisses for being so good
to my uncle," said Budge. And assuming that the latter course
would be the one adopted by Mrs. Mayton, Budge climbed into her
lap and began at once to make payment.

"Bless your dear little heart!" exclaimed Mrs. Mayton; "you're of
the same blood, and it IS good, if it IS rather hasty."

As I arose the next morning, I found a letter under my door.
Disappointed that it was not addressed in Alice's writing, I was
nevertheless glad to get a word from my sister, particularly as