o, and the lessons I learn, and some books with verses in and
tales of strange places and people, and going out to the shops with
Patty and watching the boys snowballing, and learning to slide."

"But thou art not in Arch Street, and there is a farm here. Come, let us
find the early sweet apples. I think there are some ripe ones, and thou
art so fond of them."

They walked along together. "Still, I do not understand why a thing
should be so dear and pleasant and then change and look--look hateful to
you!"

There was a pang in the great fellow's tender heart.

"Nay, not hateful!" he said pleadingly.

"But I did not want to stay. Aunt Lois looked stern and spoke crossly.
And I am not a Quaker any more. I told her so. And I am a--a rebel! I
will have no English King."

Her tone accented it all with capitals.

"Thou art a rebel, sure enough." Yet he smiled tenderly on her. Whatever
she was was sweet.

"And I said I would fight against the King."

"Heaven send there may not be much fighting! Even now it is hoped the
colonists will give way a little and the King yield them some liberties,
and we shall be at peace again."

"But we will have a king of our very own," she said willfully,
forgetting her protest of a moment agone. "The old one in England shall
not rule over us. And why do not the people who like him go back to that
country?"

"They cannot very well. They have their land and their business here."

"Then they should try to agree."

"Dost thou try to agree when things are not to thy liking?"

She glanced up with a beseeching, irresistible softness in her eyes, and
then hung her dainty head.

"But you have the other girl Faith. And Aunt Lois thinks what I learn is
wrong. And--and----"

They paused under the wide-spreading tree. What a fine orchard it was!
Andrew pulled down a branch and felt of several apples, then found one
with a soft side.

"There is a good half to that. I will cut it with my knife and the
chickens may find the rest. There are plenty more."

"Oh, how delicious! I had almost forgotten the apples. Things ought to
be sewn up in one's mind and never drop out. We have had none save some
green ones to be gathered for sauce and pies."

"And there will be many other things. The peaches hang full. And there
are pears, but the cherries are all gone save the bitter wild ones. Then
thou canst find the squirrels again, and there is a pretty, shy little
colt in the west field, with a whit