wonder?
He's standing staring at the door as though he expected it to open of
itself. Ahem! _ahem!_"

This sound, coming faintly to Derrick's ear, seemed to banish his
hesitation, for the next instant the bell was rung furiously. The truth
is he had been seized with another diffident fit, and had it not been
broad daylight he would probably have walked back and forth in front of
the door several times before screwing up his courage to the
bell-ringing point.

The door was opened before the bell had stopped jingling, and an anxious
voice inquired, "Is it fire?" Then Miss Nellie, apparently seeing the
visitor for the first time, exclaimed, with charming simplicity,

"Oh no! Excuse me. I see it's only you, Mr. Sterling. How stupid of me!
Won't you walk in? I thought perhaps it was something serious."

"Only I, and I wish it was somebody else," thought bashful Derrick, as,
in obedience to this invitation, he stepped inside the door. Leaving him
standing there, Miss Mischief ran up-stairs to tell her mother, in so
loud a tone that he could plainly hear her, that Mr. Sterling had come
for them, and was evidently in an awful hurry.

"I'm in for a perfectly horrid time," said poor Derrick to himself. "I
can see plain enough that she means to make fun of me all day."

Mrs. Halford's kind greeting and ready tact made the boy feel more at
ease, and before they reached the new breaker--the first place to which
he carried them--he felt that perhaps he might not be going to have such
a very unpleasant day after all.

Both Mrs. Halford and Miss Nellie were greatly interested in watching
the machinery of the breaker and the quick work of the slate-picker
boys; but in spite of the jigs and the wet chutes the coal-dust was so
thick that they did not feel able to remain there more than a few
minutes.

As they came out Mrs. Halford said, "Poor little fellows! What a
terribly hard life they must lead!"

"Yes, Mamma, it's awful," said Miss Nellie. "And don't they look just
like little negro minstrels? I don't see, though, how they ever tell the
slate from the coal. It all looks exactly alike to me."

"The slate isn't so black as the coal," explained Derrick, "and doesn't
have the same shine."

They walked out over the great dump, and the ladies were amazed at its
extent.

"Why, it seems as if every bit of slate, and coal too, ever dug in the
mine must be piled up here!" exclaimed Miss Nellie.

"Oh no," said Derrick, "only a