ome fingers,--"

"Never mind about that," said Uncle Harry, then turning to the child he
said:

"Did you like that one best, or is that larger one finer?"

"That large one is the loveliest. I didn't _ever_ see one so fine as
that."

"We'll have that one, then," he said, offering a bill to the astonished
salesgirl.

"There, little girl, she's yours," he said, as he placed the big doll in
her arms.

"I can hold her a little while?" she asked, eagerly.

"You can hold her _always_, if you want to," he said gently, "I bought
her for you."

Rapturously she clasped the gift in her arms.

"Oh, I love you, because you are good," she cried.

"Then tell me your name," he said.

"I'm Lois Ann Ferguson," chirped the little girl, "and father is Sandy
Ferguson. Oh, there he is now. He's to play the pipes."

She ran toward a sturdy man dressed in Highland costume, and carrying
the bagpipes under his arm.

Mr. Ferguson glanced at her flushed cheeks, saw the gorgeous doll that
she flourished before his astonished eyes, and finally understood that
the tall, handsome stranger had bestowed it upon his wee daughter, as a
gift.

He took her little hand, and hurried forward, saying:

"I dinna ken why he should dae it for my wee lassie.

"I wad gladly thank ye, sir," he said, "but I'm lost in wonder that ye
made wee Lois sae blithe an' gay wi' the braw gift."

"She's a dear little lass," said Uncle Harry, "and when I found her
crying, I knew that a fine new doll would dry her tears. Don't bother to
thank me. I made myself happy, when I comforted her."

"I wish there were mair like ye," said Sandy Ferguson, "an' some day
when ye're older, an' ha' a wee daughter of yer ain,--"

"I have a wife and baby girl now," was the quick reply, "and they are my
dearest possessions."

"An' I thought ye a braw, bonny laddie, wi' yer fair hair an' blue een!
Weel, weel, ye dinna hae tae live 'til ye're auld before ye ken tae dae
a kindly act," Sandy Ferguson replied, "an' later when I play the
pipes, an' Lois dances, she shall make her first bow tae her new
friend."

"Oh, Uncle Harry, _did_ you buy the new doll for the little girl?"

It was little Flossie, who, after having searched every corner of the
tent, had found him talking to the Scotchman and his little girl.

"Is he your own uncle?" little Lois asked, looking up into Flossie's
lovely face.

"Oh, yes," said Flossie, "and he's the best uncle in the world."

"I know he mus