hard?"

"I should say it did. Look,"--Phyllis took her hand away from her eye.
It was quite red, for a bit of dust had inflamed it.

The small boy gazed at it thoughtfully.

"He hadn't ought to have hurted you," he said solemnly. "He were a bad
brownie, I guess--so I'll go back to Nannie now."

"Where is Nannie?" Phyllis inquired, looking in vain for a nurse. The
park, as far as she could see, was deserted.

"It doesn't matter," he said quite calmly. "I just remembered I'm
losted." He took Phyllis's outstretched hand and trotted along beside
her.

"Losted?" she inquired in astonishment.

"Yes, for quite a while, you see, Nannie talks and talks, and to-day
she were talking when the brownie came, and so I ran away. Nannie
doesn't know about brownies; just angels and devils."

Phyllis, in spite of herself, laughed. "But if Nannie has lost you,
won't she be worried?" she asked.

The small head nodded. "But she'll find me again," he assured her.
"She always does."

"What's your name?" he demanded after a minute of silence.

"Phyllis Page."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I have ever so many more names than that."

"What are they?"

"Donald Francis MacFarlan Keith," he recited glibly; "but mostly I'm
called Don."

"That's a very nice name," Phyllis agreed absently. She was still
looking for the lost Nannie.

"And I live," Don continued proudly, "at number theventeen East
Theventy-theventh Street." The s's were almost too much for him but he
struggled manfully.

"Why, that's very near where I live!" Phyllis exclaimed, relief in her
voice. "I'll take you home, if we don't find Nannie."

Don decided that that might be a good idea when, after a short hunt,
the missing Nannie was not discovered.

He talked every step of the way home, about brownies, policemen, dogs
and fire engines, and Phyllis joined in the discussion whole heartedly
and agreed with him that a mounted policeman was indeed superior to a
banker on Wall Street.

"For," Don explained, "that's what Nannie says my Daddy is, but I think
policemen is nicer."

When they reached the house that Don pointed out as his, they hurried
up the steps, but before Phyllis could press the button the door opened
and a boy about her own age stood on the threshold.

"I beg your pardon--" Phyllis began, but Don interrupted.

"Hello, Chuck," he said seriously. "This girl bringed me home because
I got losted. She's only got two names but she's