this honour."

"Dear me!" said Cricket, trying not to laugh. "I'd have come before, if
I'd known you'd wanted to see me so much."

"Would you really, my pretty? Now, ain't that sweet of her?"
admiringly, to Hilda.

Hilda sat looking on in dumb amazement. She was so accustomed to feeling
a little superior to Cricket, on account of her orderliness and
generally good behaviour, that she was struck with surprise at the old
woman's joy over seeing her little friend, while she sat by unnoticed.
She did not know how many a laugh and pleasant hour the stories of
Cricket's mishaps had given the lonely old woman.

"Yer favour yer ma, I see," said Marm Plunkett, still holding Cricket's
sleeve. "Dear! dear! she was a pretty one, that she was! You've got
shiny eyes like her'n, but yer hair's a mite darker, ain't it? My! ain't
them curls harndsome!" touching very gently one of the soft rings of
Cricket's short hair. It was never regularly curled, but had a thorough
brushing given it by Eliza every morning, and, five minutes after, the
dampness or the summer heat made her like a Gloriana McQuirk.

Cricket looked dreadfully embarrassed, and hadn't the least idea what to
say to this peculiar old woman, who repeated, softly, with no eyes for
the rest:

"Have--I--seen--Miss--Cricket!"

Fortunately, here a howl from Zaidee created a diversion. She had pushed
herself too far back on the bottomless chair, and had suddenly doubled
up like a jack-knife into the hole. As Hilda and Cricket hastily turned,
nothing was visible but a pair of kicking feet, for her little short
petticoats had fallen back over her head, entirely extinguishing her.
Helen instantly lifted up her voice and wept.

Cricket seized Zaidee's feet and Hilda her shoulders, and together they
tried to pull her up. But she was a plump little thing, and was so
firmly wedged in, that the chair rose as they pulled her.

"Billy, come hold the chair down, please," called Cricket. So, with
Billy to brace his huge foot on the round of the chair, and to hold down
the back with his hands, Cricket and Hilda, with another vigorous pull,
managed to undouble Zaidee.

Marm Plunkett had been sitting in a state of great excitement, while the
rescue was going on, and leaned back with a sigh of relief when the
little girl was finally straightened out. Zaidee took it very
philosophically.

"Stop crying, Helen," she said, "you are such a cry-baby. This is a
very funny chair, Marm Plunke