ans trouble."

"Goosey!" said Miss Philippa.

"If you dream of the moon," Mary went on, happily, "it means you are
going to have a beau who'll love you."

"Little girls mustn't talk about love," Philippa said, gravely; but the
color came suddenly into her face. To dream of the moon means--Why!
but only the night before she had dreamed that she had been walking in
the fields and had seen the moon rise over shocks of corn that stood
against the sky like the plumed heads of Indian warriors! "Such things
are foolish, Mary," Miss Philly said, her cheeks very pink. And while
Mary chattered on about Mrs. Semple's book Philippa was silent,
remembering how yellow the great flat disk of the moon had been in her
dream; how it pushed up from behind the black edge of the world, and
how, suddenly, the misty stubble-field was flooded with its strange
light:--"you are going to have a beau!"

Philippa wished she might see the book, just to know what sort of
things were read to Mary. "It isn't right to read them to the child,"
she thought; "it's a foolish book, Mary," she said, aloud. "I never
saw such a book."

"I'll bring it the next time I come," Mary promised.

"Oh no, no," Philly said, a little breathlessly; "it's a wrong book. I
couldn't read such a book, except--except to tell you how foolish and
wrong it is."

Mary was not concerned with her friend's reasons; but she remembered to
bring the ragged old book with her the very next time her brother
dropped her at Mr. Roberts's gate to spend an hour with Miss Philippa.
There had to be a few formal words between the preacher and the sinner
before Mary had entire possession of her playmate, but when her brother
drove away, promising to call for her later in the afternoon, she
became so engrossed in the important task of picking hollyhock seeds
that she quite forgot the dream-book. The air was hazy with autumn,
and full of the scent of fallen leaves and dew-drenched grass and of
the fresh tan-bark on the garden paths. On the other side of the road
was a corn-field, where the corn stood in great shocks. Philly looked
over at it, and drew a quick breath,--her dream!

"Did you bring that foolish book?" she said.

Mary, slapping her pocket, laughed loudly. "I 'most forgot! Yes,
ma'am; I got it. I'll show what it says about the black ox--"

"No; you needn't," Miss Philly said; "you pick some more seeds for me,
and I'll--just look at it." She touched the stained old boo