a shiny one like Judge
Masterson's; but her father only smiled and shook his head, and said
that they were plain folks, he and Katy. There were dry-goods for sale
in the same shop, and a young clerk who was measuring linen kindly
pulled off some pretty labels with gilded edges and gay pictures, and
gave them to the little girls, to their exceeding joy. He may have had
small sisters at home, this friendly lad, for he took pains to find
two pretty blue boxes besides, and was rewarded by their beaming
gratitude.

It was a famous day; they even became used to seeing so many people
pass. The village was full of its morning activity, and Susan Ellen
gained a new respect for her father, and an increased sense of her own
consequence, because even in Topham several persons knew him and
called him familiarly by name. The meeting with an old man who had
once been a neighbor seemed to give Mr. Hilton the greatest pleasure.
The old man called to them from a house doorway as they were passing,
and they all went in. The children seated themselves wearily on the
wooden step, but their father shook his old friend eagerly by the
hand, and declared that he was delighted to see him so well and
enjoying the fine weather.

"Oh, yes," said the old man, in a feeble, quavering voice, "I'm
astonishin' well for my age. I don't complain, John, I don't
complain."

They talked long together of people whom they had known in the past,
and Katy, being a little tired, was glad to rest, and sat still with
her hands folded, looking about the front yard. There were some kinds
of flowers that she never had seen before.

"This is the one that looks like my mother," her father said, and
touched Katy's shoulder to remind her to stand up and let herself be
seen. "Judge Masterson saw the resemblance; we met him at his gate
this morning."

"Yes, she certain does look like your mother, John," said the old man,
looking pleasantly at Katy, who found that she liked him better than
at first. "She does, certain; the best of young folks is, they remind
us of the old ones. 'Tis nateral to cling to life, folks say, but for
me, I git impatient at times. Most everybody's gone now, an' I want to
be goin'. 'Tis somethin' before me, an' I want to have it over with. I
want to be there 'long o' the rest o' the folks. I expect to last
quite a while though; I may see ye couple o' times more, John."

John Hilton responded cheerfully, and the children were urged to pick
som