entric little millionaire more than the usual trend of events it was
an original proposition of this sort. He loved to do things that other
people had not attempted, nor even thought of. He hated conversational
platitudes and established conventions, and his nieces had endeared
themselves to him more by their native originality and frank disregard
of ordinary feminine limitations than in any other way. It was generally
conceded that Patsy was his favorite because she could advance more odd
suggestions than the other girls, and this niece had a practical
aptitude for carrying out her whimsical ideas that had long since won
her uncle's respect. Not that she could outdo Mr. Merrick in
eccentricity: that was admitted to be his special province, in which he
had no rival; but the girl was so clever a confederate that she gave her
erratic uncle much happiness of the sort he most appreciated.

Therefore, this seemingly preposterous proposition to establish a daily
paper on a retired country farm did not strike the old gentleman as
utterly impossible, and anything within the bounds of possibility was
sure to meet his earnest consideration, especially when it was proposed
by one of his favorite nieces.

"How?" responded Patsy; "why, it's easy enough, Uncle. We'll buy a
press, hire a printer, and Beth and Louise will help me edit the paper.
I'm sure I can exhibit literary talents of a high order, once they are
encouraged to sprout. Louise writes lovely poetry and 'stories of human
interest,' and Beth--"

"I can't write even a good letter," asserted that young lady; "but I'd
dearly love to edit a newspaper."

"Of course," agreed Louise; "we all would. And I think we could turn
out a very creditable paper--for Millville. But wouldn't it cost a lot
of money?"

"That isn't the present question," replied Uncle John. "The main thing
is, do you girls want to be tied down to such a task? Every day in the
week, all during our summer holiday--"

"Why, you've made our whole lives a holiday, Uncle John," interrupted
Patsy, "and we've been so coddled and swamped with luxuries that we are
just now in serious danger of being spoiled! You don't want three
spoiled nieces on your hands, do you? And please make allowance for our
natural impetuosity and eagerness to be up and doing. We love the farm,
but our happiness here would be doubled if we had some occupation to
keep us busy, and this philanthropic undertaking would furnish us with
no en