admitted into the Union!'"

When Uncle Sam and the stagecoach drew up to the brick house with a
grand swing and a flourish, the Goddess of Liberty and most of the
States were already in their places on the "harricane deck." Words fail
to describe the gallant bearing of the horses, their headstalls gayly
trimmed and their harnesses dotted with little flags. The stage windows
were hung in bunting, and from within beamed Columbia, looking out from
the bright frame as if proud of her freight of loyal children.
Patriotic streamers floated from whip, from dash-board and from rumble,
and the effect of the whole was something to stimulate the most
phlegmatic voter. Rebecca came out on the steps and Aunt Jane brought a
chair to assist in the ascent. Miss Dearborn peeped from the window,
and gave a despairing look at her favorite.

What had happened to her? Who had dressed her? Had her head been put
through a wringing-machine? Why were her eyes red and swollen? Miss
Dearborn determined to take her behind the trees in the pine grove and
give her some finishing touches; touches that her skillful fingers
fairly itched to bestow.

The stage started, and as the roadside pageant grew gayer and gayer,
Rebecca began to brighten and look prettier, for most of her
beautifying came from within. The people, walking, driving, or standing
on their doorsteps, cheered Uncle Sam's coach with its freight of
gossamer-muslined, fluttering-ribboned girls, and just behind, the
gorgeously decorated haycart, driven by Abijah Flagg, bearing the jolly
but inharmonious fife and drum corps. Was ever such a golden day; such
crystal air; such mellow sunshine; such a merry Uncle Sam!

The stage drew up at an appointed spot near a pine grove, and while the
crowd was gathering, the children waited for the hour to arrive when
they should march to the platform; the hour toward which they seemed to
have been moving since the dawn of creation. As soon as possible Miss
Dearborn whispered to Rebecca: "Come behind the trees with me; I want
to make you prettier!"

Rebecca thought she had suffered enough from that process already
during the last twelve hours, but she put out an obedient hand and the
two withdrew.

Now Miss Dearborn was, I fear, a very indifferent teacher. Her stock in
trade was small, her principal virtues being devotion to children and
ability to gain their love, and a power of evolving a schoolroom order
so natural, cheery, serene, and peacefu