in her
lap. He glanced at his own--yes, they were Adams hands, and looked
little like hard work. He was rather proud that Recompense should
discern a family likeness.

Betty came flying down the oaken staircase, and Warren entered from the
back door. For a few moments there was quite a confusion of tongues, and
Recompense wondered how mothers stood it all the time.

"How queer not to have anyone know about Boston," began Warren with a
teasing glance over at Doris. "We have been looking at it from Copp's
Hill, and going through the odd places."

"And I wondered if people came to be fed in White Bread Alley,"
exclaimed Doris quickly.

"And I dare say Warren didn't know."

"Why, yes--a woman baked bread there."

"Women have baked bread in a great many places," returned Uncle Win,
with a quizzical smile.

"Oh, I didn't mean just that."

"It was John Tudor's mother," appended Betty.

"Mrs. Tudor made the first penny rolls offered for sale in Boston, and
little John, as he was then, took them around for sale."

"And Mr. Benjamin Franklin didn't make them famous either," laughed
Warren.

"And Salutation Alley with its queer sign--its two old men with cocked
hats and small clothes, bowing to each other," said Betty. "It always
suggests a couplet I found in an old book:

"'O mortal man who lives by bread,
What is it makes your nose so red?
O mortal man with cheeks so pale,
'Tis drinking Levi Puncheon's ale!'"

"It is said the resolutions for the destruction of the tea were drawn up
in the old tavern. It was famous for being the rendezvous of the
patriots."

"It would be nice to drive all around Boston shore."

"Let it be summer time, then," rejoined Betty. "Or, like the Hollanders,
we might do it on skates. Of course you do not know how to skate,
Doris?"

Doris admitted with winsome frankness that she did not. But she could
ride a pony, and she could row a little.

"There are some delightful summer parties when we do go out rowing. At
least, the boys row mostly, because

"'Satan finds some mischief still
For idle hands to do!'"

and Betty laughed.

"And the girls always take their knitting," appended Warren. "There's
never any mischief for them to get into."

"I suppose it doesn't look much like Old Boston," inquired Miss
Recompense. "And what do the little girls do there, my dear?"

Warren opened his eyes wide. The idea of Miss Recompense saying "my
dear" to a child.

I