hing she thought could
be used as a dialogue in the coming exhibition.

It was a poem in which each of four children expresses a cherished
ambition to the mother, who comments on the wish with approval or
censure.

The piece required two boys, and Laura's brother Mat and his chum, Hugh
Bonner, were called upon, and after some grumbling on their part and as
much coaxing on the part of the girls they "came in to help the
Happy-Go-Luckys out," as they expressed it.

They were assigned their characters; Laura took the role of mother,
giving the girls' parts to Alene and Ivy.

"I ask for beauty, for an eye
Bright as the stars in yonder sky;
For tresses on the air to fling
And put to shame the raven's wing;
Cheeks where the lily and the rose
Are blended in a sweet repose;
For pearly teeth and coral lip,
Tempting the honey bee to sip,
And for a fairy foot as light
As is a young gazelle's in flight,
And then a small, white, tapering hand--
I'd reign, a beauty, in the land!"

This was Alene's verse, but Ivy read it over and over instead of her
own, and the oftener she read, the more discontented she grew.

"Why should Alene wish for 'a fairy foot, as light as is the young
gazelle's in flight' when she has one already--two of 'em for that
matter?" she thought. "The other wish is fine, I know--'a noble gift,'
the mother says, but I don't care, I can't do justice to it as I could
to the other! Of course, I don't care much for the 'eye, bright as the
stars,' and all that rubbish, but I can imagine being light and gay and
dancing!"

Although Ivy learned her part she went through it at rehearsal in such
a spiritless way that Laura could not have failed to remark it if she
were not occupied with so many other things.

When Alene's turn came and she stepped forward rather timidly to
recite, Ivy listened eagerly to her rendition. It proved to be
letter-perfect but expressionless. Ivy was justified in thinking that
she herself could have done much better.

"She says it just in the way you might wish for a piece of plum cake or
another gum-drop," she mused bitterly.

No one suspected her dissatisfaction except Hugh, who someway
understood all the moods of the frail little sister whom he worshiped.

In her sick spells, dating from a fall five years before, no one could
move her so tenderly, nor place her in so comfortable a position as
this sturdy lad of fifteen.

He resented Ivy's afflicti