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"I 'low she's filled out some since then; she was as leggy as a colt. But these gals can see what she looks like in the face." While he was speaking his wife brought forth the family album a green plush affair with a huge gilt horseshoe on the cover. She turned over the leaves till she found Sallie's photograph, and displayed it with pride.

It was just a look, but there was a thought of Father in it, also a suggestion of the glance he bestowed on Sallie's twins. I remembered that the Crag seldom speaks, and that's what makes you spend your time breathlessly listening to him. "Well, come on, everybody, let's go home and undress, and forget about the wedding," came in Henrietta's positive and executive tones.

Really, the drama had grown very impressive; it was a mystery, to say the least; and so it must remain forever, for when Frank, infected at last by Mrs. Sallie's faith in tragedy, opened the door and offered his tardy services, the wagon was driven rapidly away without reply.

I took it over to Sallie's, and she got fresh water for it every day, somehow; and it was then she begun to tell me what you said about heaven, and I thought if God had made such flowers as that for you, it was likely he had made a heaven for you; but I didn't believe it was for Dirk till to-night, and I didn't have no kind of a notion how it looked till just now.

The word "father" meant nothing to them but misery. Still there was that in them which respected the mother's grief; they tried to shield her. Dirk, of his own thoughtfulness, brought home a bit of tea in a paper, and bought half a pint of milk at the corner bakery; and Mart took lessons of Sallie, and made a delicate slice of toast, and borrowed Sallie's one cup and saucer to serve the tea in.

"Little goose girl, who kept a hundred fat geese in the field," said Amy, when Sallie's invention gave out. "The little girl was sorry for them, and asked an old woman what she should do to help them. 'Your geese will tell you, they know everything. said the old woman.

Agatha drank her coffee, ate sparingly of Sallie's toast, and, leaving Lizzie with a piece of sewing to do, went first to James Hambleton's room. After ten minutes or so, she slowly descended the stairs and went out the front way. She circled the garden and came round to the open kitchen door. Sallie was kneeling before her oven, inspecting bread.

"What is the child talking about?" said Sallie's mother. "She has been asleep and dreamed it," said Sallie's grandmother, taking Sallie in her arms. "I showed her my forefinger where it was hurt when I was a little girl and told her she must look out for her forefinger or she might get it terribly hurt just as I did.

"I vow ter Maria, Peleg!" ejaculated Mr. Snubbins. "What's happened to Celia? Ain't she here?" "No. Nor no more ain't Sallie," Mr. Morton said. "Come in. Bring in them young ladies. I'll tell ye about it. Sallie's maw is mighty upsot." "But ain't Celia here?" reiterated Mr. Snubbins, as he and the chums from Tillbury passed into the warm, big kitchen. "No, she ain't, I tell you."

Some women are so feminine that they are sticky, unless well spiced with deviltry. Sallie's loveliness hasn't much seasoning. Still, I do love her dearly, and I am just as much her slave as are any of the others. I can't get out of it. "Do you suppose we will ever get all of the clothes done for the twins?"