over 2 dc.,
1 sc. on the next ch., and repeat from *.

"ONT DAYKUMBOA."

In the parlor of a dear old-fashioned country house two elderly ladies
are seated, one knitting, the other reading the report of yesterday's
sermons, giving bits aloud now and then; on the carpet a little boy
about three years of age is sprawling, apparently trying to swim on dry
land.

The lady knitting is Miss Helena Oakstead, the lady reading is Miss
Judith Oakstead, and the small boy is Master Ralph Oakstead, the eldest
son of the youngest brother. If you go to the other side of the hall you
will find the eldest brother (Master Ralph's uncle) in his study,
writing an essay full of great big words. He is Professor Oakstead.

Master Ralph is spending the day with his relatives, and has gotten on
with them very well so far, as his sister Daisy, two years his senior,
whom he rules right royally, has acted as court interpreter; but she has
just departed for a drive with a neighboring friend, and the aunts are
left in sole charge of his Highness.

He is very gracious at first, looks over a picture-book with Miss
Helena, and makes eager but unintelligible remarks respecting the
"bow-wows" and "moos," to which Miss Helena answers, "Um, dear," as
being the safest thing to say. But now he is silent, and has been so for
at least ten minutes.

"How good Ralph is!" half whispers Miss Helena.

His Highness pricks up his ears.

"Yes, dear little fellow; and he has no one to play with, either."

His Highness sits up--he speaks.

[Illustration: "ONT DAYKUMBOA."]

"Ont daykumboa."

"What is it, dear?" says Miss Judith.

"Ont daykumboa," repeats Master Ralph.

"What does the child mean?" asks Miss Helena.

"I don't know. What do you want, Ralphie?"

Ralph, with a look of mingled contempt and pity at his stupid relatives,
says, slowly but emphatically, "Ont daykumboa."

"Perhaps he is hungry. I'll go and get him a piece of cake," says Miss
Helena.

The cake is brought, and promptly accepted; but it is evidently not the
thing for which his soul longs, for after devouring half the slice he
plaintively murmurs, "Ont daykumboa."

"Well, isn't that daykumboa?" says Miss Judith.

Ralph gives her a scornful look as sole answer, and finishes his cake in
awful silence. As the last crumb disappears he sighs, "Ont daykumboa."

"What on earth and under the sun does the child want!" is the combined
exclamation of the aunts.

"Perhaps Elija