somewhere, "And if he ask bread, will he give him a stone?" No; fathers
are glad to give their "best gifts," and the little ones trust them.

"It's like sailing in a boat," cried Susy, riding back and forth about
the yard in great excitement; "why, it's just as easy as the swing in
the oilnut-tree at grandma Parlin's! O, papa, to think I should forget
to thank you!"

But perhaps Mr. Parlin regarded glowing cheeks and shining eyes as the
very best of thanks.

Prudy thought the pony a beautiful "baby horse;" wanted to ride, and
didn't want to; was afraid, and wasn't afraid, and, as her father said,
"had as many minds as some politicians who are said to 'stand on the
fence.'" By and by, after some coaxing, the timid little thing consented
to sit behind Susy, and cling round her waist, if her father would walk
beside her to make sure she didn't fall off. In this way they went
home.

"I like to sit so I can hug my sister, while she drives the horse," said
Prudy; "besides, it hurts me to walk."

Mr. Parlin and aunt Madge smiled at the child's speeches, but gave no
more heed to this lameness of which she complained, than they did to any
of the rest of her little freaks.

Prudy liked to be pitied for every small hurt; and when Susy had a sore
throat, and wore a compress, she looked upon her with envy, and felt it
almost as a personal slight that _her_ throat could not be wrapped in a
compress too.