is sun-burned cheek with her
dimpled hand, saying, in her cooing voice, "Good brother Pippin!" which
was her nickname for him. Then he forgot that she delighted to tease
him,--that her favorite pastime was to chase the young chicks and cause
a tremendous flutter in the poultry yard; and how vexed he had been
when she let his mustang out of the enclosure, "because," she said,
"Twinkling Hoofs needs a bit of fun and a scamper as well as anybody;
and he was trying to open the gate with his nose." It took two days to
find the mustang and coax him back again. Tilderee was penitent for
fully ten minutes after this escapade; but she endeavored to console
herself and Peter by declaring, "I know, Pippin, that the Indians must
have Twinkling Hoofs by this time. And he's so pretty they'll keep him
for a chief to ride; a big, fat chief, with a gay blanket and a feather
headdress, and red and blue paint on his face. Won't Twinkling Hoofs
be s'prised at all that? But never mind, Pippin; papa will let you
ride the old grey horse!"

No one knew better than Joan, however, just how tantalizing Tilderee
could be,--how she dallied in the morning playing hide-and-seek,
refusing to have her face washed and her tangled hair brushed into
shining curls; this, too, when Joan was in the greatest hurry to go and
give the fluffy chicks and the grave old fowl their breakfast. It was
very well for Peter to say, "What should we do without Tilderee?" If
she bothered him he could take his rifle and go shooting with Abe, the
old scout; or jump upon Twinkling Hoofs and gallop all over the ranch.
How would he like the midget to tag after him all day, to have the care
of her when mother went to the Fort to sell the butter and eggs?
"Indeed I could get on very well without the little plague," Joan
sometimes grumbled--"just for a _teenty_ bit of a while," she generally
added, hastily; for she really loved her little sister dearly. Joan
tried hard to be patient, but she had a quick temper, and occasionally
forgot her good resolutions. This happened one day when her mother had
gone to dispose of the dairy products. The provocation was certainly
great.

Joan had a lovely French doll--the only French doll in the Territory,
and probably the most beautiful one to be found within many hundred
miles. Mrs. Miller, the wife of one of the officers at the Fort,
brought it to her from Chicago; and the little girl regarded it as more
precious than all the fam