"No, sir," answered Flyaway, folding her little hands as if she were
saying her prayers; "I camed down when I was a baby."

[Illustration: "I CAMED DOWN WHEN I WAS A BABY."]

"That's what makes your hair so _goldy_," said Bennie. "Mother, did you
ever see such eyes? Say, did you ever? So soft, and kinder shiny, too."

"Children, don't stare at her; it makes her uneasy."

"_I_ can't stare at her," said Maria, bitterly. "I suppose you don't
mean me, mother."

Mrs. Brooks only answered her poor daughter by a kiss.

"Well, little Katie, after you were born in _Nindiana_, you came to New
York. When did you come?"

"One of these other days I camed here with Hollis."

"Who's Hollis?"

"He's my own brother. Got a new cap. Had his hair cut."

"Who did you come to New York to see?" "My auntie."

"Her auntie! A great deal of satisfaction we are likely to get out of
this child," said Mr. Brooks, laughing. He had not laughed before for a
week.