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I’m going to do them all, sometime,” Dicky prophesied. “Doc O’Brien says so.” “I think Rosie the beautifullest little girl,” Maida said. “I wish she’d come into the shop so that I could get acquainted with her.” “Oh, she’ll come in sometime. You see the W.M.N.T. is meeting now and we’re all pretty busy. She’s the only girl in it.” “The W.M.N.T.,” Maida repeated. “What does that mean?”

O’Brien, as the case may be, remarks in a low voice that he has been quite insensible of late to the beauties of nature, that his whole thoughts and wishes have centred in one object alonewhereupon the young lady looks up, and failing in her attempt to appear unconscious, looks down again; and turns over the next leaf with great difficulty, in order to afford opportunity for a lengthened pressure of the hand.

Mr. Carew finding Captain O’Brien refused no Irishmen, when he came to be examined changed his note, and declared himself to be an Englishman, but crippled in one arm: however, the captain accepted of him, and putting a sword in his hand, made him stand sentry at the bitts, which easy post he liked very well; and during all the time he was on board, every one supposed him really disabled in his arm.

The critical moment of the battle was now at hand. The Burgos regiment attempted to follow up its success by forming itself into a square for a decisive charge. In doing so the Spanish lines were broken and thrown into temporary disorder. Colonel O’Brien, a gallant cavalry officer of Irish blood, took quick advantage of this.

Mr. Carew seeing declared himself, in a true Irish brogue, to be a poor Irish weaver, and disabled in one arm, whereupon he was also refused: the Irish, among whom he was now ranked, were carried from ship to ship, and none would accept of them, which made them all expect to be discharged; but they were disappointed in their hopes, for they were put on board the Yarmouth, Captain O’Brien, being one of the squadron destined for the Baltic.

Girls who have brought the first volume of some new novel in their reticule, become extremely plaintive, and expatiate to Mr. Brown, or young Mr. O’Brien, who has been looking over them, on the blueness of the sky, and brightness of the water; on which Mr. Brown or Mr.

When’s your father coming home?” “I don’t quite knowbut I look for him any time now.” Dicky started to set the table. “I guess I wouldn’t have cried,” he said after a while, “if I could have cried last night when I first heard it. But of course I couldn’t let mother or Doc O’Brien know that I’d heard themit would make them feel bad. I don’t want my mother ever to know that I know it.”

I’m sure you could,” Maida said heartily, “and a great many other things. But it may not be as bad as you think, Dicky. Dr. O’Brien may be mistaken. You know something was wrong with me when I was born and I did not begin to walk until a year ago. My father has taken me to so many doctors that I’m sure he could not remember half their names.

Maida could see that he was ashamed of being caught in tears, that he was trying hard to control himself. “It’s something I heard,” he replied at last. “What?” Maida asked. “Last night after I got to bed, Doc O’Brien came here to get his bill paid. Mother thought I was asleep and asked him a whole lot of questions. He told her that I wasn’t any better and I never would be any better.

Doc O’Brien says I can go next year, he thinks. I’m wild to go. The other fellows hate school but I love it. I s’pose it’s because I can’t go that I want to. But, then, I want to learn to read. A fellow can have a good time anywhere if he knows how to read. I can read some,” he added in a shamed tone, “but not much. The trouble is I don’t have anybody to listen and help with the hard words.”