l," said Mary, throwing her handkerchief at Tom. "Water."

"Codfish," answered he, tossing it to Cornelia. "Earth."

"Elephant," replied Cornelia, sending the missive to Charlie. "Fire."

"Water," rejoined Charlie, flinging it to Amy.

"Eel," responded Amy, casting it into Anna's lap. "Air."

"Eagle," cried the latter, hurling the embroidered cambric at George's
face. "Earth."

"Have pity upon my poor little handkerchief!" said Mary. And so the
game proceeded; and simple though it was, it caused diversion.

"Who shall be appointed to tell the story to-night?" asked Ellen. "It
seems to me that Tom or Charlie, George or John should be selected; as
it generally happens, 'the softer sex' has done the chief talking. Isn't
it right and proper for the boys to take their equal share?"

"Oh, by no means!" answered Charlie. "It is the ladies' privilege--it
would be very ungallant to deprive them of it. Besides, my trade is that
of a critic, not an author: you must be aware that it is a higher
branch, giving larger scope to my superior judgment and exquisite powers
of fault-finding. Yes, criticism is my forte: do you tell stories,
Ellen, and I'm the chap to slash them up."

"You are only too kind," replied his cousin, laughing. "After such a
generous offer, who wouldn't be tempted?"

"I know you are right, sister Ellen," said Tom, "and that it is our duty
to help in the entertainment of the company; but, for my part, I throw
myself upon your mercy. I wouldn't, for the world, hint that we are more
solid than the girls, but 'tis very certain that we are more lumbering.
If I were to begin a tale, I'd flounder through it, like a whale with a
harpoon in its body; while any of the girls, even down to little Anna,
would glide along, like a graceful, snow-white swan upon a silver
lake--happy in her element, and giving pleasure to all who witnessed her
undulating motions."

"Very pretty that, Tom!" cried Cornelia. "After such a well-turned
compliment, our hearts would be flinty indeed, if we didn't excuse you.
But what do George and John say?"

"As for me," responded George, "it appears to be my vocation, at
present, to eat hearty dinners, grumble over my lessons, skate, and
now-and-then, by way of a frolic, fall into a pond. You may be thankful
if I don't get into all sorts of mischief. You need not expect me to
make myself agreeable till I arrive at the 'digging-up' age, that
Cornelia spoke of."

"For my part," added John,