my freckles, that's all."

Alan gave a low, expressive whistle.

"I'm glad it's nothing worse. We had a girl once, that told Molly
if she let the moon shine on her while she was asleep, she'd all
swell up and turn black, and I didn't know but you were beginning
to do that."

"I thought you had given up slang, Alan," remarked Mrs. Adams, as
she motioned him to a chair beside her.

"So I have, mostly. Mother didn't want me to use much, and I
couldn't get along without any; so we split the difference and
agreed that I could have one. I chose 'great Scott,' but it
doesn't always fit the case. I say, Polly, you'll be over to-
night, won't you?"

Polly looked doubtfully at her mother.

"Isn't it rather soon, Alan?" Mrs. Adams asked.

"Not a bit of it," answered the boy. "Mother will be busy with
Uncle Henry, because he'll only be here one night, and we'll have
to see to the girls. Molly can't manage them both, and I'm no use
at all, so we need Polly to help us out. Mother said you'd better
come over about five, Poll, and stay to supper."

"I don't know whether I can get bleached in time," answered Polly,
laughing, as she followed him to the door; "but I'll come if I