rs. Allen went out, and soon returned with a dessert of
cake, pie, and fruit.

"I thought I would bring it all at once," said she, "just what I know
you will like; and then sit down and be comfortable. We'll lay the
wreaths under the table. There are no napkins, girls (this isn't Boston,
you know); so you'd better tuck your handkerchiefs under your chins."

"But is this the handsomest place they've got in New York, without any
carpet to it?" whispered Dotty.

"We'll see, one of these days," replied auntie, with a smile that spoke
volumes.

It was a very jolly dinner, and Mrs. Allen had to send for three plates
of scallops; for the children found, after tasting hers, that they were
very nice; all but Fly, who did not relish them, and thought it was
because she did not like to eat pin-cushions.

"Now, little folks, if you have eaten sufficiently, and are thoroughly
rested, shall we start for home? I think a journey to Brooklyn is about
enough for one day--don't you? But you musn't leave without seeing
Granny."

"Granny?"

"Yes, I call her so, and it pleases her. She has had a little table in
the market for a long while, and I like to buy some of her goodies just
to encourage her, for she has such a way of looking on the bright side
that she wins my respect. Listen, now, while I speak to her."

Auntie's old woman had on a hood and shawl, and was curled up in a
little heap, half asleep.

"Pleasant day," said Mrs. Allen, going up to the table.

"Yes, mum; nice weather _underful_," returned the old woman, rousing
herself, and rubbing an apple with her shawl.

"And how do you do, Granny?"

"Why, is that you?" said she, the sun coming out all over her face.
"And how've you been, mum, since the last time I've seen yer?"

"Very well, Granny; and how do things prosper with you?"

"O, _I'm_ all right! I've had a touch of rheumaty, and this is the fust
I've stirred for two weeks."

"Sorry to hear it, Granny. Rheumatism can't be very comfortable."

"Well, no; it's bahd for the jints," said the old woman, holding up her
fingers, which were as shapeless as knobby potatoes.

"Poor Granny! How hard that is!"

"Well, they be hard, and kind o' stiff-like. But bless ye," laughed she,
"that's nothing. I wouldn't 'a' cared, only I's afeared I'd lose this
stand. There was a gyurl come and kep' it for me, what time she could
spare."

"I'm glad you havn't lost the stand, Granny; but I don't see how you can
laugh at the r