" returned the broker. "I'm surprised
they've nothing better this year than that ramshackle boat. You'll have to
bail if we go."

"What's bail?" eagerly.

"Dipping out the water with a tin cup."

"Oh, that'll be fun. It'll be an adventure, grandpa, won't it?"

"I hope not," earnestly, was the reply; but Jewel was already sitting on
the grass pulling off her shoes and stockings. She leaped nimbly into the
wet boat, and Mr. Evringham stepped gingerly after her, seeking for dry
spots for his canvas shoes.

"I think," said the child joyfully, as they pushed off, "when the winds and
waves notice us having so much fun, they'll let the pond alone, don't you?"

"If they have any hearts at all," responded Mr. Evringham, bending to the
oars.

"Oh, grandpa, you can tell stories like any thing!" exclaimed Jewel
admiringly.

"It has been said before," rejoined the broker modestly.

* * * * *

When outdoor gayeties had to be dispensed with one day, on account of a
thorough downpour of rain, the last story in Jewel's book was called for.

The little circle gathered in the big living-room; there was no question
now as to whether Mr. Evringham should be present.

"It is Hobson's choice this time," said Mrs. Evringham, "so we'll all
choose the story, won't we?"

"Let Anna Belle have the turn, though," replied Jewel. "She chose the first
one and she must have the last, because she doesn't have so much fun as the
rest of us." She hugged the doll and kissed her cheeks comfortingly. It
was too true that often of late Anna Belle did not accompany all the
excursions, but she went to bed with Jewel every night, and it was seldom
that the child was too sleepy to take her into full confidence concerning
the events of the day; and Anna Belle, being of a sedentary turn and given
to day dreams, was apparently quite as well pleased.

Now Mr. Evringham settled in a big easy-chair; the reader took a small one
by the window, and Jewel sat on the rug before the fire, holding Anna
Belle.

"Now we're off," said Mr. Evringham.

"Go to sleep if you like, father," remarked the author, smiling, and then
she began to read the story entitled

ST. VALENTINE

There was a little buzz of interest in Miss Joslyn's room in the public
school, one day in February, over the arrival of a new scholar. Only a very
little buzz, because the new-comer was a plain little girl as to face and
dress, with big, wondering eyes,