r mother
laughingly.

That puzzled the little girl a good deal, and when she had an
opportunity she asked her father if he had faith in Joe.

"Well," her father seemed to hesitate, "he might doctor Tabby, but I
wouldn't let him experiment on Dobbin or Prince."

Hanny's face was a study in gravity and disappointment. "And if _I_ was
sick?" she ventured with a very long sigh.

Then her father hugged her up in his arms until she was breathless, and
scrubbed her soft little face with his whiskers, and both of them
laughed. But Joe promised one day when he was home to doctor her for
nothing, so that point was settled.

They had a great time Fourth of July. Lamb and green peas were the
regulation dinner. Steve sent a wagon up every morning with the freshest
vegetables there were in market, and the meat for the day. Their milk
came from the Odells in West Farms, and their butter from Yonkers. To be
sure, it wasn't quite like country living, and Mrs. Underhill was
positive that no one gave such a flavor to butter as herself.

The Odells and some other relatives were down on Fourth of July. They
had the lamb and peas, as I said, and at that date one kind of meat was
considered enough. They had green-apple pie. There was a very early
pie-apple on the farm and George had brought some down for his mother.
He was well and happy as he could be "without the folks," and he shook
his head a little ambiguously about Uncle Faid's method, and those of
Mr. Finch.

They had some ice-cream and cake afterward. The little girl had never
eaten any, and she thought it very queer. It would have been delightful
but for the awful coldness of it! It froze the roof of her mouth and
made an ache in the middle of her forehead. Steve told her people
sometimes warmed it, and she ran out to the stove with her saucer.

"The land alive! What are you going to do with that cream?" almost
shrieked Martha, who was washing dishes at the sink.

"Warm it," replied the little girl. "It's so cold."

Martha almost fell into a chair with the dish-cloth in her hand, and
laughed as if she would have a fit. There was a suspicious sound from
the dining-room as well, and the fair little face grew very red.

Steve came out.

"Here, Nannie, is mine that the weather has warmed, and I'll trade it
for your peak of Greenland." He took the chunk out of her saucer, and
poured the soft in.

"It is nicer," she said. "And you needn't laugh, Martha. When I am a big
wom