axed me into buying the doll;
and Maggie Markham, who sold me the quilt; and Belle, and two others,
and they were chatting and giggling over some joke, and had to stop on
the steps until they could straighten their faces. I grew
fire-red--with indignation.

"Oh, father, why are you not here?" I cried inwardly. "Oh, father,
what a shame to go off to the post-office and leave your son to face
these tried to feel as I felt five minutes before, like facing a
female regiment. _Now_ was the time to prove my courage--to turn over
a new leaf, take a new departure, begin life over again, show to these
giggling girls that I had some pride--some self-independence--some
self-resp----"

The door creaked on its hinges, and at the sound a blind confusion
seized me. In vain I attempted, like a brave but despairing general,
to rally my forces; but they all deserted me at once; I was hidden
behind the calicoes, and with no time to arrange for a nobler plan of
escaping a meeting with the enemy--no auger-hole though which to
crawl. I followed the first impulse, stooped, and _hid under the
counter_.

In a minute I wished myself out of that; but the minute had been too
much--the bevy had entered and approached the counter, at the very
place behind which I lay concealed. I was so afraid to breathe; the
cold sweat started on my forehead.

"Why! there's no one in the store!" exclaimed Belle's voice.

"Oh, yes; there must be. Let us look around and see," responded
Maggie, and they went tiptoeing around the room, peeping here and
there, while I silently tore my hair. I was so afraid they would come
behind the counter and discover me.

In three minutes, which seemed as many hours, they came to the
starting-point again.

"There isn't a soul here."

"La, how funny! We might take something."

"Yes, if we were thieves, what a fine opportunity we would have."

"I'll bet three cents it's John's fault; his father would never leave
the store in this careless way."

"What a queer fellow he is, anyway!"

"Ha, ha, ha! so perfectly absurd! _Isn't_ it fun when he's about?"

"I never was so tickled in my life as when he bought that quilt."

"I thought I would die laughing when he took me into the coal-cellar,
but I kept a straight face."

"Do _you_ think he's good-looking, Hetty?"

"Who? John Flutter! _good-looking_? He's a perfect fright."

"That's just what I think. Oh, isn't it too good to see the way he
nurses that little mustache of