everently receiving the
funereal head-gear.

"I'm _not_ better," cut in Aunt Kipp. "I'm worse, much worse; my days
are numbered; I stand on the brink of the tomb, and may drop at any
moment."

Toady's face was a study, as he glanced up at the old lady's florid
countenance, down at the floor, as if in search of the above-mentioned
"brink," and looked unaffectedly anxious to see her drop. "Why don't
you, then?" was on his lips; but a frown from Polly restrained him,
and he sat himself down on the rug to contemplate the corpulent
victim.

"Have a cup of tea, aunt?" said Mrs. Snow.

"I will."

"Lie down and rest a little," suggested Polly.

"I won't."

"Can we do anything for you?" said both.

"Take my things away, and have dinner early."

Both departed to perform these behests, and, leaning back in her
chair, Aunt Kipp reposed.

"I say, what's a bore?" asked Toady from the rug, where he sat rocking
meditatively to and fro, holding on by his shoe-strings.

"It's a kind of a pig, very fierce, and folks are afraid of 'em," said
Aunt Kipp, whose knowledge of Natural History was limited.

"Good for Polly! so you are!" sung out the boy, with the hearty
child's laugh so pleasant to most ears.

"What do you mean, sir?" demanded the old lady, irefully poking at him
with her umbrella.

"Why, Polly said you were a bore," explained Toady, with artless
frankness. "You _are_ fat, you know, and fierce sometimes, and folks
are afraid of you. Good, wasn't it?"

"Very! Mary is a nice, grateful, respectful, loving niece, and I
shan't forget her, she may depend on that," and Aunt Kipp laughed
grimly.

"May she? well, that's jolly now. She was afraid you wouldn't give her
the money; so I'll tell her it's all right;" and innocent Toady nodded
approvingly.

"Oh, she expects some of my money, does she?"

"Course she does; ain't you always saying you'll remember us in your
will, because father was your favorite nephew, and all that? I'll tell
you a secret, if you won't let Polly know I spoke first. You'll find
it out to-night, for you 'd see Van and she were sweethearts in a
minute."

"Sweethearts?" cried Aunt Kipp, turning red in the face.

"Yes'm. Van settled it last week, and Polly's been so happy ever
since. Mother likes it, and _I_ like it, for I'm fond of Van, though
I do call him Baa-baa, because he looks like a sheep. We all like it,
and we 'd all say so, if we were not afraid of you. Mother and Polly,
I mean;