ke that one the
gentleman was sitting in; and next, I'd have great big lamps, ever so
many all in a bunch, so as to make the room as _light_--as _light_ as it
could be!"

"Seems to me you're mighty fond of lights, Gerty," said Willie.

"I be," said the child. "I hate old, dark, black places; I like stars,
and sunshine, and fires, and Uncle True's torch----"

"And I like bright eyes!" interrupted Willie; "yours look just like
stars, they shine so to-night. An't we having a good time?"

"Yes, real."

And so they went on--Gerty dancing along the side-walk, Willie sharing
in her gaiety and joy, and glorying in the responsibility of
entertaining and protecting the wild little creature. They talked of how
they would spend that future wealth which they both calculated upon one
day possessing; for Gerty had caught Willie's spirit, and she, too,
meant to work and grow rich. Willie said his mother was to wear a gay
cap, like that of the lady they had seen; this made Gerty laugh. She
thought that demure little widow would be ridiculous in a flowered
headgear. Good taste is inborn, and Gerty had it in her. She felt that
Mrs. Sullivan, attired in anything that was not simple, neat, and
sober-looking, would altogether lose her identity. Willie had no selfish
schemes; the generous boy suggested nothing for his own gratification;
it was for the rest he meant to labor, and in and through them that he
looked for his reward. Happy children! What do they want of wealth? What
of anything, material or tangible, more than they now possess? They have
what is worth more than riches or fame--they are full of childhood's
faith and hope. With a fancy and imagination unchecked by
disappointment, they are building those same castles that so many
thousand children have built before, that children will always be
building to the end of time. Far off in the distance they see bright
things, and know not what myths they are. Undeceive not the little
believers, ye wise ones! Check not that God-given hopefulness, which
will, perhaps, in its airy flight, lift them in safety over many a rough
spot in life's road. It lasts not long at the best; then check it not,
for as it dies out the way grows hard.

They had reached the last lamp-post in the street, but scarcely had they
gone a dozen steps before Gerty stopped short, and, positively refusing
to proceed any further, pulled hard at Willie's hand, and tried to
induce him to retrace his steps.

"What's