By Marion Mallette Thornton


"Oh," said Millicent, watching the postman's blue coat up the street.
"I wish he would come here day after to-morrow and bring me twenty
valentines!"

"Will he, Mitty?" Jimmy-Boy asked eagerly.

Millicent shook her head. "'Course not, Jimmy-Boy. I know only six
little girls; I couldn't get but six."

Aunt Sara was listening. She was Millicent's very prettiest auntie
from the city, and she nearly always found a way to help.

"How would you like to _send_ twenty valentines?" she asked.

Millicent laughed. "Why, auntie, I couldn't send but six, either. I
don't know any more girls. Besides, I haven't any more valentines."

"Suppose I should show you how to make twenty valentines, and find
twenty little girls to send them to; would you like, to do it?"

Millicent came running from the window with Jimmy-Boy close behind
her.

"I'd love to, auntie! Please show me right away."

"Love to, auntie, right away," echoed Jimmy-Boy.