han to go wandering about."

"You are quite right," agreed Rollo. "We once lost a fine brindle
cow, because she wandered into a swamp and sank in a quagmire. But,
hello--what is this?" As he spoke Rollo pulled from his coat pocket a
small bottle.

"As I live and breathe, it is a bottle of martini which Jonas has
thoughtfully prepared against the cold."

"Blessings on Jonas!" cried his little companion. "I am almost
frozen."

It was the work of a moment to spread the robe on a grassy knoll, and
here Cousin Stella's chauffeur found them just as Rollo tossed the
empty bottle into a coppice.

"Atta-boy!" cried Rollo gaily as they struggled to their feet and ran
toward the automobile. It was now quite dark, and when they were
snugly tucked among the cushions Rollo began to feel very sleepy. As
they rolled homeward through the night, the little boy drowsed off
into slumber. Then he seemed to see two bright stars gleaming in the
sky, which reminded him of Anabelle's eyes and it seemed to him that
he kissed her. But he may have been dreaming.

"Who won?" asked Jonas when Rollo and Lucy reached the apartment.

"I did," cried Rollo, "I beat Rupert Hogan all to pieces."

"But who won the football match?" persisted Jonas.

"How do I know, Dumbbell," said Rollo. "Look in the papers to-morrow
morning!"

ROLLO GOES A-SHOPPING

THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT MOVES OUR LITTLE HERO TO A VAST OUTLAY,
BUT THE RESULT IS ALL THAT COULD BE DESIRED

It was now the merry Yuletide season which, in town and country, falls
like a mantle of white snow over the hearts of men and ladies, and you
may be sure that little Rollo was among the very first to feel its
influence. Although it was but early December, he and his Sister Lucy
had long been storing up their pennies, and many an hour had been
passed writing the lists of those to whom they wished to give
remembrances and from whom they expected to receive them.

Rollo had saved a whole dollar, which was indeed a great task for him,
for Rollo's father was a frugal man and few coins came his children's
way. But, by changing his Sunday-school dime into two nickels, our
little hero was able to save five cents a week, and still make a
louder noise in the contribution box than ever before. Thus, little by
little, the small iron bear, into whose jaws Rollo placed his hoard,
became gradually filled, until one day Rollo found to his surprise
that no more coins would go in.

"Feel how heav