while the baby drank thirstily. Little motes of the sunset light
danced on the two curly golden heads. He looked from the children
toward the dusty kitchen table.

"What a hell of a mess Liz does keep going," he muttered. "Patience
would break her heart, if she knew. Oh! Patience, Patience!--"

Lydia came back with the empty cup. "Now for the steak," she
exclaimed. "Gosh, what a fire--"

She attacked the greasy stove with enthusiasm and in a short time a
savory smell of steak filled the house. Amos went into the dining-room
and sat in a rocking chair with little Patience and the balloon in his
lap. Old Lizzie hummed as she finished setting the table and Lydia
whistled as she seasoned the potatoes Lizzie had set to frying.

"Where'd she get the balloon?" asked Amos as Lydia brought in the
platter of meat.

"Margery gave it to her," answered the child. "Supper's ready."

"Got it at the circus, I suppose. I wish I could 'a' let you go,
Lydia, but at a dollar and a half a day, I swan I--"

"I didn't want to go," returned Lydia, sitting the baby in her high
chair. "I'm getting too big for circuses."

"Too big for a circus!" Her father looked at her with understanding
eyes. "I guess heaven is paved with lies like yours, Lydia. John
Levine will be over to-night. Get some of the mess dug out of the