had belonged to Cousin
Mary, who was quite a big girl now, and she had sent them to Uncle
Robert's boy up in Ohio. He learned to waltz in them, and in time sent
them to little Agnes in Virginia, who wore them for a year on state
occasions, then sent them back to Kentucky to little Cousin Nell.

If ever a tempted soul longed for a forbidden treasure, 'Mazin' Grace
longed for the watermelon stockings. "Effen they was mine, I'd give you
one anyways," she argued with Nell, but to no avail.

In the back yard stood a big old chicken-coop, which had been cleaned
out and nicely whitewashed for the children to use as a play-house. It
had an upstairs and a downstairs, and a square little door that fastened
on the outside with a wooden peg. Nell could climb in easily; but
'Mazin' Grace was too fat, and after many efforts she had given up,
contenting herself with watching the play from outside.

To-day a doll funeral was in progress, and Nell, moving comfortably
about inside the coop, arranged the broken bits of china in a spool-box,
tied a sweeping piece of crape on her biggest doll, and allowed her
imagination full swing in depicting the grief of the doll family.

'Mazin' Grace, sitting under the apple-tree outside, took little
interest in the proceedings. The hot sun beat down on the long stretch
of blue-grass, and up from the creek came the warm odor of mint; a fat
old bumblebee hummed close to her head, but she did not stir. She was
thinking about the watermelon stockings.

[Illustration: "NELL TIED A SWEEPING PIECE OF CRAPE ON HER BIGGEST
DOLL."]

Presently she began to move stealthily toward the coop, watching Nell
cautiously from the corner of her eyes. "Ain't nobody to home but me an'
her," she whispered to herself, "an' there wouldn't nobody know, an'--"
With a deft movement she closed the small door and fastened it with the
wooden peg. Then she turned, and, leaving the unconscious prisoner, sped
softly up the garden path, through the basement, and up the stairs.

In Mrs. Tracy's bedroom was a wide old mahogany dresser with big glass
knobs that seemed to glare unwinking reproof at 'Mazin' Grace as she
opened the bottom drawer.

"Dis heah is where dey stays at," she said, tossing aside ribbons and
laces in her eagerness. "Oh, goody, goody! Heah dey is!"

Tearing away the tissue-paper, she gazed with delight at the coveted
stockings. The knobs might glare as much as they liked; the sparrows
might scold themselves