ne in a blarneyish and deludthering way
not unknown in her native isle. The same Jersey cream had gone into its
skin, there were dimples in the knuckles, and baby hand though it was,
its satin touch had a thrill in it, and responded instantly to my
pressure.

"Do you think we can make room for her, children?" I asked.

Every small boy cried rapturously: "Look Miss Kate! Here's room! I kin
scrooge up!" and hoped the Lord would send Rosaleen his way!

"We can't have two children in one seat;" I explained to Rosaleen's
sponsor, "because they can't have proper building exercises nor work to
good advantage when they're crowded."

"I kin set on the pianner stool!" gallantly offered Billy Prendergast.

"Perhaps I can borrow a little chair somewhere," I said. "Would you like
to stay with us Rosaleen?"

Her only answer (she was richer in beautiful looks than in speech) was
to remove her blue velveteen hat and tranquilly placed it on my table.
If she was lovely with her hair covered she was still lovelier now;
while her smile of assent disclosing as it did, an irresistible dimple,
completed our conquest; so that no one in the room (save Hansanella, who
went on doggedly with their weaving) would have been parted from the new
comer save by fire and the sword.

At one o'clock Bobby Green came back from the noon recess dragging a
high chair. It was his own outgrown property and he had asked our
Janitor to abbreviate its legs and bring it up stairs.

When Rosaleen sat in it and smiled, a thrill of rapture swept through
the small community. The girls thrilled as well as the boys, for
Rosaleen's was not a mere sex appeal but practically a universal one.

There was one flaw in our content. Bobby Green's mother arrived shortly
after one o'clock in a high state of wrath, and I was obliged to go out
in the hall and calm her nerves.

"I really think Bobby's impulse was an honest one," I said. "He did not
know I intended to buy a chair for the new child out of my own salary
this afternoon. He probably thought that the high chair was his very
own, reasoning as children do, and it was a gallant, generous act. I
don't like to have him punished for it, Mrs. Green, and if we both tell
him he ought to have asked your permission before giving the chair away,
and if I buy you a new one, won't you agree to drop the matter?--Think
how manly Bobby was and how generous and thoughtful! If he were mine I
couldn't help being proud of him. Just pe