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"I'se been to Soogar Wiver, and I don't know how to det home aden, I'se so vewy tired, and I toodn't cwack the candy, and I want to see dwandma," and Tot's words ended in a wail of inarticulate woe. "Where do you live?" asked the boy. "A dwate, dwate ways off," answered Tot. "What is your name?" "Tot Lindsay." "Lindsay? O, I know!

At any rate, off he hied through the wind and snow to Tom Tot's cottage: where, as fortune had it, Tom Tot was mending a caplin seine. "Tom Tot," said he, quite shamelessly, "I'm fair achin' t' know what's in this letter." The harbour was cognizant of Skipper Tommy's state and standing temptation: much concerned, as well, as to the outcome.

And at the end of it all must be Tot could see it now in fancy the fluttering blue ribbon uncurling between sunny sloping banks SUGAR RIVER fast asleep under the summer sun, on its glittering bed of rock candy. O, rapture! Tot's mouth watered for its sugary delights. On and on and on, with the brook and the butterflies and the welcoming bird.

Down by the river, in the dusk and the river damp, as they waited, came Will, striding along with what looked like a bundle of old shawls upon his shoulder; and presently, parting the folds like the calyx of a flower, Tot's rosy face blossomed out. "Peekabo!" she said, with a sweet sound of laughter. "O mamma, mamma!"

But Tot had a Spartan soul; and at last, beside the wonderful stream, on the beautiful shore she stood, and poor, poor little Tot! The little pinafore torn, the pretty, trim boots soaked and soiled, all Tot's little body dragged and weary; yet, it isn't that that makes me say "poor little Tot!"

"You toandt kott enna verte to sendt to Mr. Richlun, Toctor!" "Yes. Tell him to come and pass an hour with me some evening in my library." The German lifted his hand in delight. "Vy, tot's yoost teh dting! Mr. Richlun alvayss pin sayin', 'I vish he aysk me come undt see um; undt I sayss, 'You holdt shtill, yet, Mr.

Mammy made a bed for the doggies in a box in one corner of the nursery, and the children were so excited and so happy that she could hardly get them to bed at all; but after a while Tot's blue eyes began to droop, and she fell asleep in Mammy's arms, murmuring, "De booful itty doggie."

No more stories. No more fairies. No more anything. Only a wonderful river winding and gleaming and leaping through Tot's childish dreams beautiful, wonderful "Soogar Wiver," where happy Uncle Will went fishing, lying on the bed of rock candy. One morning, all in the gray and quiet, Tot had a queer dream.

And Tot was looked at and hustled away, and the little silver mug tried to drown itself in a yellow stream of sunshine flowing across the table; and, failing in that, tried to sparkle just as Tot's eyes had sparkled, and failed in that, too. For that was O, very bright nothing was brighter than Tot's eyes.

The chickens, though, were fascinating, and as for some plushy round balls of yellow fuzz, rolling about little ducks just hatched Tot had never seen anything at all to compare with them. But there was a dreadful and discordant procession of big ducks that struck terror to Tot's soul, and it was very still and lonely when the night and dark crept on.