ere they were received by a surprised old lady in gold-bowed
spectacles, to whom John presented his companion, with the following
concise account of the accident which occasioned her unexpected
appearance:

"Grandma, here's a girl, and her father is out there with his team, and
they've just had a break-down, and it was all my doing; but I didn't
mean to! I scared the horse, hollering at a squirrel. I've got to go and
help her father get the buggy down to Doran's, and she's going to stay
here till it's fixed, and her name's Linda. I don't know what her other
name is."

"Linda Trafton," supplemented Linda, as the boy paused to catch his
breath.

"Johnny," said the old lady, speaking as severely as a stout old lady
with dimples in her cheeks and a twinkle in her eyes could be expected
to speak, when addressing her only grandson--"Johnny, I do declare for
't, you air the worst boy! What under the canopy will you go to cuttin'
up next? Come right in, my dear," she said to Linda, "and make yourself
to home. Johnny, you run along and help the gentleman; and tell Mr.
Doran your gran'ther will pay the bill."

"Oh, I'm going to pay it myself, grandma, with my own pocket-money,
if the gentleman will let me; but he says he won't."

And Johnny was off before he had done speaking.

"I declare for 't," said his grandmother, "that boy is a regular
Burbank; jest exactly what the deacon used to be at his age--always into
suthin'. I knew the deacon when he wa'n't any older than Johnny, an'
I remember jest how he used to act. Take off your things, my dear, and
make yourself to home."

She took Linda's hat and sacque, and carried them into the spare
bed-room, where there was a great "four-poster" bedstead, with
blue-and-white chintz hangings and a blue-and-white spread; and then she
came and sat down by Linda, and asked her a great many questions about
the break-down, and about her father and mother and herself, but she was
such a nice old lady that Linda did not mind her being a little
inquisitive.

In return, she gave Linda quite a complete history of her own family,
and told her a number of entertaining stories about Johnny and Johnny's
father, and about the deacon when he was a boy. Finally, she looked at
the queer old clock on the kitchen mantle-shelf, and remarked:

"It's time I was gittin' my dinner over to cook, and I guess I shall
have to leave you to amuse yourself a little while, my dear. You might
go out an' look 'ro