s sweet voice melodiously told the story of his hapless love,
and smiled on pretty Josephine, who was a regular bluebird without the
scream.

"Ain't this fun?" whispered Jimmy's next neighbor, taking advantage of a
general burst of laughter, as the inimitable little bumboat woman
advertised her wares with captivating drollery.

"Right down jolly!" answered Jimmy, feeling that a series of somersaults
across the stage would be an immense relief to the pent-up emotions of
his boyish soul. For under all the natural excitement of the hour deep
down lay the sweet certainty that he was earning health for Kitty, and
it made his heart sing for joy more blithely than any jovial chorus to
which he lent his happy voice.

But his bliss was not complete till the stately Sir Joseph, K. C. B.,
had come aboard, followed by "his sisters and his cousins and his
aunts;" for among that flock of devoted relatives in white muslin and
gay ribbons was Will. Standing in the front row, her bright face was
good to see, for her black eyes sparkled, every hair on her head curled
its best, her cherry bows streamed in the breeze, and her feet pranced
irresistibly at the lively parts of the music. She longed to dance the
hornpipe which the little Quaker aunt did so capitally, but, being
denied that honor, distinguished herself by the comic vigor with which
she "polished up the handle of the big front door," and did the other
"business" recorded by the gallant "ruler of the Queen's Navee."

She and Jimmy nodded to each other behind the Admiral's august back, and
while Captain Corcoran was singing to the moon, and Buttercup suffering
the pangs of "Wemorse," the young people had a gay time behind the
scenes. Jimmy and Will sat upon a green baize bank to compare notes,
while the relatives flew about like butterflies, and the sailors talked
base-ball, jack-knives, and other congenial topics, when not envying Sir
Joseph his cocked hat, and the Captain his epaulettes.

It was a very successful launch, and the merry little crew set sail with
a fair wind and every prospect of a prosperous voyage. When the first
performance was over, our two children left their fine feathers behind
them, like Cinderella when the magic hour struck, and went gayly home,
feeling much elated, for they knew they should go back to fresh
triumphs, and were earning money by their voices like Jenny Lind and
Mario. How they pitied other boys and girls who could not go in at that
myst