in the country. Last of all, the minister's two little daughters, whom
you have already met.

Ruth Elliot was sitting at a table covered with piles of bright calico
pieces cut and basted for sewing, and when each girl had received a
block with all necessary directions for making it, needles were
threaded, thimbles adjusted, and the Patchwork Quilt Society was in full
session.

"Now, Aunt Ruth," said Susie, "you promised to tell us a story, you
know."

"Yes; tell us about Dinah Diamond, please," said Mollie.

"You and Susie have heard that story before, Mollie."

"That does not make a bit of difference, Auntie. The stories we like
best we have heard over and over again. Besides, the other girls haven't
heard it. Come, Aunt Ruth, please begin."

And so, while all sat industriously at work, Ruth Elliot related to the
little girls


THE TRUE STORY OF DINAH DIAMOND.

"When I was a little girl," she began, "I had a present from a neighbor
of a black kitten. I carried her home in my apron, a little ball of
black fur, with bright blue eyes that turned yellow as she got bigger,
and a white spot on her breast shaped like a diamond. I remember she