believe the horse
is running away. No, he's pulled it up, and----"

"O Ted," said Cissy, clasping her hands, "how _lovely_ it must be! O
Ted, do come down and be kick about making the place for me, for Cissy."

Just then the dinner-bell rang. Ted began his descent, Cissy eagerly
awaiting him. She took his hand and trotted along beside him.

"_Do_ zoo think zoo can do it, Ted?" she said.

"I must see about the wood first," said Ted, not without a little
importance in his tone; "I think there's some pieces in the coach-house
that would do."

At luncheon the big people, of whom there were several, for some uncles
and aunts had been staying with the children's father and mother lately,
noticed that Ted and Cissy looked very eager about something.

"What have you been doing with yourselves, you little people, this
morning?" said one of the aunties kindly.

Cissy was about to answer, but a glance from Ted made her shut tight
her little mouth again. There must be some reason for it--perhaps this
delightful plan was to be a secret, for her faith in Ted was unbounded.

"We've been in the garden, in _our_ gardens," Ted replied.

"Digging up the plants to see if they were growing--eh?" said an uncle
who liked to tease a little sometimes.

Ted didn't mind teasing. He only laughed. Cissy looked a little, a very
little offended. She did _not_ like teasing, and she specially disliked
any one teasing her dear Ted. Her face grew a little red.

"Ted knows about f'owers bootilly," she said; "Ted knows lots of
things."

"_Cissy!_" said Ted, whose turn it was now to grow a little red, but
Cissy maintained her ground.

"Ses," she said. "Ted does."

"Ted's to grow up a very clever man, isn't he, Cissy?" said her father
encouragingly--"as clever as _Uncle_ Ted here."

"Oh no," the little fellow replied, blushing still more, for Ted never
put himself forward so as to be noticed; "I never could be that. Uncle
Ted writes books with lots of counting and stick-sticks in them and----"

"Lots of _what_?" asked his uncle.

"Stick-sticks," said Ted simply. "I don't know what it means, but mother
told me it was a sort of counting--like how many days in a year were
fine and how many rainy."

"Or how many old women with baskets, and how many without, passed down
the road this morning--eh, Ted?" said his other uncle, laughing
heartily.

"Yes, I suppose so," said Ted. "Are stick-sticks any good?" he inquired,
consideringly.

"It's