, her face was long. Her dark hair, too, was
long, but with nothing in texture or colour to recommend it. She wore it
pulled straight from her forehead and hanging behind in two stiff
plaits.

With her old black hat, her colourless face, her faded clothes, she gave
the impression of a very shabby, serious little person. And she was
both. Rosie, on the other hand, though as poorly dressed, seemed
anything but shabby and serious, for she was all life and colour, like
some little roadside flower, which, in spite of dusty leaves, raises
aloft a bright, fresh bloom.

Janet might bravely dismiss her aunt with a wave of the hand, but Rosie
insisted upon repeating herself.

"I don't care what you say, Janet, I think she's low-down the way she
talks to you and your mother! Now Tom's nice. That was fine the way he
spoke up. You don't think his father'll lick him, do you?"

"Uncle Matt?" Janet laughed. "Nev-er! Uncle Matt's just crazy about Tom.
They're like two kids when they're together. And that reminds me,
Rosie--goodness me, I was forgetting all about it!" Janet paused to give
full flavour to her bit of news. "What Tom came over for this afternoon
was to tell me that Uncle Matt has promised to give him and me tickets
for the Traction Boys' Picnic--you know it's coming in two weeks
now--and Tom says he's going to try to beg another ticket for you!"

"Is he really, Janet? Now isn't he just too kind!"

"Kind? I should say he is! He's bashful, of course, and people laugh at
him because he's got red hair, but he's just as generous as he can be.
You remember last year I went with him, too. Why, do you know, last year
his father had six customers who bought their tickets and then turned
right around and said: 'But we can't go, so you just give these tickets
to some one who can.' Uncle Matt had enough tickets for the whole family
and two more besides. He sold those two and give us all ice-cream sodas
on them."

"Did he really, Janet! That just proves what I always say: in some ways
I'd much rather have my father be a conductor than a motorman. A
motorman never gets a chance at a ticket. I'm glad Jarge Riley's a
conductor. I bet he sells a good many, don't you?"

"Of course he will, Rosie! I hadn't thought of Jarge. If a customer
gives Jarge back a ticket, of course he'll pass it on to you--I know he
will. Gee, Rosie, you're lucky to have a fella like Jarge Riley boarding
with you. He sure is a dandy."

To this last Rosie a