h," said he, in a low tone, "hand me one of your plum tarts;
that'll fetch her.--Come here, my pretty one, and see what's inside of
this little pie."

Flyaway was very hungry. She took a step forward, and held her hand
out, though rather timidly.

"But she mustn't eat it without asking her mamma," said Ruth.

"Yes; O, yes," cried Miss Flyaway, opening her little mouth for the
first time, and shutting it again over a big bite of tart; "I want to
eat it and _s'prise_ my mamma."

Abner laughed in his hearty fashion. "Some of the old mischief left
there yet," said he, catching Flyaway and tossing her to the ceiling.
"Have you come here this summer to keep the whole house in commotion?
Remember the Charlie boy--don't you--that had the meal-bags tied to
his feet?"

"Did he? What for?"

Flyaway had not the least recollection of Charlie; but Horace had
talked to her about him, and she said, after a moment's thought,--

"Yes, he washed the pig. Me and Charlie, we played all everything what
we thinked about."

"So you did, surely," said a woman who had just come in at the back
door, and begun to drop kisses, as sad as tears, on Flyaway's
forehead. "Do you know who this is?" Flyaway looked up with a sweet
smile, but her mind had lost all impression of her melancholy friend,
Miss Whiting. "Look again," said the sad-eyed stranger, who did not
like to have even a little child forget her; "you used to call me the
'Polly woman.'"

Katie looked again, and this time very closely.

"There's a great deal o' yellowness in your face," exclaimed she,
after a careful survey; "but you was made so!"

Miss Polly laughed drearily. "So you don't remember how I took you out
of the watering-trough, you sweet lamb! 'I's tryin' to swim,' you
said; 'and _that's_ what is it.' Here's a summer-sweeting for you,
dear; do you like them?"

"Yes'm, thank you," said Flyaway, "but I like summer-_sourings_ the
best."

At the same time she allowed herself to be taken in Miss Polly's lap,
and won that tender-hearted woman's love by putting her arms round her
neck, and saying, "Let me kiss you so you'll feel all better. What
makes you have tears in your eyes?--tell me."

"We're good friends--I knew we should be," said Miss Polly, quite
cheerily. "Look out of the window, and see that swing. How many times
I've pushed you and Dotty in that swing when it seemed as if it would
break my back!"

Flyaway looked out. There stood the two trees, and betwe