boys. Some new neighbours came to call, and expressed a wish to see us, having been told that we were pattern children. Mother called us, but we had paraded out into the garden after our ball, and were having a concert, as we sat about on the cabbages for green satin seats, so we didn’t hear the call; and just as the company was going, a great noise arrested them on the door-step, and round the corner of the house rattled Ned in full costume, wheeling Kitty in a barrow, while Jimmy, Will, and I ran screaming after, looking like Bedlamites; for we were playing that Lady Fitz-Perkins had fainted, and was being borne home senseless in a cab. I thought mother would kill herself with laughing; and you can imagine what a fine impression the strangers received of the model children.”

Maud was so tickled with this youthful prank, that she unguardedly sat down to laugh on the edge of an open trunk, immediately doubled up, fell in, and was with difficulty extricated.

“People in the country have a great deal nicer times than we do. I never rode in a wheelbarrow, I never sat on cabbages, and I don’t think it’s fair,” she said, with an injured expression. “You needn’t save any old silk gowns for me; I don’t mean to be a fine lady when I grow up, I’m going to be a farmer’s wife, and make butter and cheese, and have ten children, and raise pigs,” she added, in one enthusiastic burst.

“I do believe she will, if she can find a farmer anywhere,” said Fanny.

“Oh, I’m going to have Will; I asked him, and he said, ‘All right.’ He’s going to preach Sundays, and work on the farm the rest of the time. Well, he is, so you needn’t laugh, for we’ve made all our plans,” said Maud with comical dignity, as she tried the effect of an old white bonnet, wondering if farmers’ wives could wear ostrich feathers when they went to meeting.

“Blessed innocence! Don’t you wish you were a child, and dared tell what you want?” murmured Fanny.

“I wish I had seen Will’s face when Maud proposed,” answered Polly, with a nod which answered her friend’s speech better than her words.

“Any news of anybody?” whispered Fan, affecting to examine a sleeve with care.

“Still at the South; don’t think late events have been reported yet; that accounts for absence,” answered Polly.

“I think Sir Philip was hit harder than was supposed,” said Fan.

“I doubt it; but time cures wounds of that sort amazing quick.”

“Wish it did!”

“Who is Sir Philip?” demanded Maud, pricking up her ears.

“A famous man who lived in the time of Queen Elizabeth,” answered Fan, with a look at Polly.

“Oh!” and Maud seemed satisfied, but the sharp child had her suspicions nevertheless.

“There will be an immense deal of work in all this fixing over, and I hate to sew,” said Fanny, to divert a certain person’s thoughts.

“Jenny and I are going to help. We are your debtors, as well as Belle, and demand the privilege of paying up. Blessings, like curses, come home to roost, Fan.”

“Mine come home a good deal bigger than they went,” answered Fanny, looking pleased that little favours should be so faithfully remembered.