walk right straight up the stairs again!"

Herbert advanced toward her. "Now you pay attention, to me," he said.
"You've paid for your ole poem, and we got to have some peace around
here. I'm goin' straight over to your mother and ask her to come and get
you."

Florence gave up. "What difference would _that_ make, Mister
Taddletale?" she inquired mockingly. "_I_ wouldn't be here when she
came, would I? I'll thank you to notice there's some value to my time,
myself; and I'll just politely ask you to excuse me, pray!"

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

With a proud air she crushingly departed, returning to her own home far
from dissatisfied with what she had accomplished. Moreover, she began to
expand with the realization of a new importance; and she was gratified
with the effect upon her parents, at dinner that evening, when she
informed them that she had written a poem, which was to be published in
the prospective first number of _The North End Daily Oriole_.

"Written a _poem_?" said her father. "Well, I declare! Why, that's
remarkable, Florence!"

"I'm glad the boys were nice about it," said her mother. "I should have
feared they couldn't appreciate it, after being so cross to you about
letting you have anything to do with the printing-press. They must have
thought it was a very good poem."

"Where is the poem, Florence?" Mr. Atwater asked. "Let's read it and see
what our little girl can do when she really tries."

Unfortunately Florence had not a copy, and when she informed her father
of this fact, he professed himself greatly disappointed as well as eager
for the first appearance of _The Oriole_, that he might felicitate
himself upon the evidence of his daughter's heretofore unsuspected
talent. Florence was herself anxious for the newspaper's debut, and she
made her anxiety so clear to Atwater & Rooter, Owners & Propreitors,
every afternoon after school, during the following week, that by
Thursday further argument and repartee on their part were felt to be
indeed futile; and in order to have a little peace around there, they
carried her downstairs. At least, they defined their action as
"carrying," and, having deposited her in the yard, they were obliged to
stand guard at the doors, which they closed and contrived to hold
against her until her strength was worn out for that day.

Florence consoled herself. During the week she dropped in on all the
members of "the family"--her grandfather, uncles and aunts and cou