thing look like a picture from the same review from which I had cut my
smocks. However, I am sure that if she had been at the between six and
eighteen age year before last, when about two and a half yards of gingham
would have been modish for her costume, she would still have been attired
in the voluminous ruffles.

"Holy smokes," I thought I heard Matthew gurgle, and I felt him start at
the apparition, though the young thing never so much as glanced in his
direction as she tendered me a quaint little basket in which lay half a
dozen eggs, real homely brown eggs and not pearl treasures.

"Oh, thank you, Polly dear," I answered with enthusiasm, and in obedience
to some urge resulting from the generations ahead of Polly and my
incarnation in the atmosphere of Riverfield, my lips met the rosy ones that
were held up to me. I felt sorry for Matthew, and I couldn't restrain a
glance of mischief at him that crossed his that were fixed on the yellow
braids.

"I didn't believe it of this day and generation," I heard him mutter as I
presented him to Polly, who answered that she was "pleased to make his
acquaintance," in a voice in which terror belied the sentiment expressed.

In her eyes traces of that same terror remained until suddenly the Golden
Bird stepped proudly out of the bushes with the Ladies Bird, clucking and
scratching along behind him. He had led the family out into the pasture
and was now wisely returning them to the barn before the setting of the
sun. I thought I had never seen him look so handsome, and no wonder his
conquest was immediate.

"Oh, how beautiful," exclaimed Polly, while all restraint left her young