jers. Oh! I don' know the capertins--never got acquainted when I
went to school; common letters was good enough for me.

"That tall one, that's _l_, an' there's round _o_, then _r_, an' then
_i_ with a dot. L-o lo, r-i ri, lori; _m_, _e_, an' then another tall
_l_ on the end--that's m-e-l mel, lorimel. Now what's the capertin's
name?--lorimel, lorimel; I've heerd that name some'eres. Why, it's her
that came that day mother lay a-dyin' an' spoke so soft like; an' the
gennelman with her he called her 'lorimel'--no that warn't it--Florimel,
Florimel, that's the name!

"Tain't yourn now, Nance. You know where it belongs. You ain't got no
right to it now."

And then came other thoughts.

"What's a gold thimble to her? She can buy all she wants--gold thimbles,
and gold scissors, and gold needles; and sit in a gold chair, and sew on
a gold gown. She hadn't no business leavin' a gold thimble in a rag bag.
Them that's careless has to pay for it."

* * * * *

The curtains were drawn in an elegant house on the Avenue. A bright fire
burned in the grate, throwing a warm glow on the delicate walls, the
beautiful pictures, and the snowy marble statues, and reflecting itself
in the long mirrors, seemed, as it sparkled and glowed, the only thing
of life in the room; for the young girl who lay back in the luxurious
depths of the large chair by the hearth, with her fair hands lying
listlessly in her lap, was as white and motionless as the statues around
her.

Now and then her lip quivered, and an occasional tear stole from under
her long lashes, but she did not look up till a gentleman entered the
room. Then she sprang into his arms, and sobbed out, in reply to his
question of how she had spent the day,

"I've been perfectly miserable, papa. I've lost my thimble--the thimble
Uncle Phil gave me. I'd give everything in the world to see it again."

"Why, my dear little girl, that would hardly be worth while, when you
can get another for a few dollars. We'll go to-morrow and buy the
prettiest--"

"Ah! papa, you don't understand. All the money in the world can't buy a
thimble to take the place of the one Uncle Phil gave me. It was the last
thing he ever bought."

"Was it, darling?"

"Yes; and he said that morning, 'Florimel, can you sew pretty well?' and
I laughed, and said, 'Of course not, Uncle Phil; what's the need of my
sewing?' 'Great need, great need, little niece,' he said. 'Sewing is
woman