and they had a procession in the morning. Mother let us all
walk in and wheel Mira in the baby carriage, because we couldn't afford
to go to the circus in the afternoon. And there were lovely horses and
animals in cages, and clowns on horseback; and at the very end came a
little red and gold chariot drawn by two ponies, and in it, sitting on
a velvet cushion, was the snake charmer, all dressed in satin and
spangles. She was so beautiful beyond compare, Mr. Cobb, that you had
to swallow lumps in your throat when you looked at her, and little cold
feelings crept up and down your back. Don't you know how I mean? Didn't
you ever see anybody that made you feel like that?"

Mr. Cobb was more distinctly uncomfortable at this moment than he had
been at any one time during the eventful morning, but he evaded the
point dexterously by saying, "There ain't no harm, as I can see, in our
makin' the grand entry in the biggest style we can. I'll take the whip
out, set up straight, an' drive fast; you hold your bo'quet in your
lap, an' open your little red parasol, an' we'll jest make the natives
stare!"

The child's face was radiant for a moment, but the glow faded just as
quickly as she said, "I forgot--mother put me inside, and maybe she'd
want me to be there when I got to aunt Mirandy's. Maybe I'd be more
genteel inside, and then I wouldn't have to be jumped down and my
clothes fly up, but could open the door and step down like a lady
passenger. Would you please stop a minute, Mr. Cobb, and let me change?"

The stage driver good-naturedly pulled up his horses, lifted the
excited little creature down, opened the door, and helped her in,
putting the lilacs and the pink sunshade beside her.

"We've had a great trip," he said, "and we've got real well acquainted,
haven't we?--You won't forget about Milltown?"

"Never!" she exclaimed fervently; "and you're sure you won't, either?"

"Never! Cross my heart!" vowed Mr. Cobb solemnly, as he remounted his
perch; and as the stage rumbled down the village street between the
green maples, those who looked from their windows saw a little brown
elf in buff calico sitting primly on the back seat holding a great
bouquet tightly in one hand and a pink parasol in the other. Had they
been farsighted enough they might have seen, when the stage turned into
the side dooryard of the old brick house, a calico yoke rising and
falling tempestuously over the beating heart beneath, the red color
coming a