was all my jokes and nonsense," said the unscrupulous Sarah. "But
your ma wouldn't like to know I've said such a thing. And Master Robert
wouldn't be so mean as to tell tales, would he, love?"

"I'm not mean," said Robin, stoutly; "and I don't tell tales; but you
do, and you tell--you know what--besides. However, I won't go this time;
but I'll tell you what,--if you tell tales of me to papa any more, I'll
tell him what you said about the old gentleman in the blue cloak." With
which parting threat Robin strode off to join his brothers and sister.

Sarah's tale had put the court-martial out of his head, and he leaned
against the tall fender, gazing at his little sister, who was tenderly
nursing a well-worn doll. Robin sighed.

"What a long time that doll takes to wear out, Dora!" said he. "When
will it be done?"

"Oh, not yet, not yet!" cried Dora, clasping the doll to her, and
turning away. "She's quite good, yet."

"How miserly you are," said her brother; "and selfish, too; for you
know I can't have a military funeral till you'll let me bury that old
thing."

Dora began to cry.

"There you go, crying!" said Robin, impatiently. "Look here: I won't
take it till you get the new one on your birthday. You can't be so mean
as not to let me have it then!"

But Dora's tears still fell. "I love this one so much," she sobbed. "I
love her better than the new one."

"You want both; that's it," said Robin, angrily. "Dora, you're the
meanest girl I ever knew!"

At which unjust and painful accusation Dora threw herself and her doll
upon their faces, and wept bitterly. The eyes of the soft-hearted
Nicholas began to fill with tears, and he squatted down before her,
looking most dismal. He had a fellow-feeling for her attachment to an
old toy, and yet Robin's will was law to him.

"Couldn't we make a coffin, and pretend the body was inside?" he
suggested.

"No, we couldn't," said Robin. "I wouldn't play the 'Dead March' after
an empty candle-box. It's a great shame,--and I promised she should be
chaplain in one of my night-gowns, too."

"Perhaps you'll get just as fond of the new one," said Nicholas, turning
to Dora.

But Dora only cried, "No, no! He shall have the new one to bury, and
I'll keep my poor, dear, darling Betsey." And she clasped Betsey tighter
than before.

"That's the meanest thing you've said yet," retorted Robin; "for you
know mamma wouldn't let me bury the new one." And, with an air of great
disgus