please be awfully much delighted with it. And oh, Mr. Sick
Boy, when you look at the funny, blurry colors, couldn't you
just please pretend that the tinge of green is the flavor
of pleasant pastures, and that the streak of red is the
Cardinal Flower that blazed along the edge of the noisy
brook?

"Goodby till to-morrow,

"MOLLY."

With a face so altogether crowded with astonishment that there was no
room left in it for pain, Stanton's lame fingers reached out
inquisitively and patted the warm, woolly fabric.

"Nice old Lamb--y" he acknowledged judicially.

Then suddenly around the corners of his under lip a little balky smile
began to flicker.

"Of course I'll save the letter for Cornelia," he protested, "but no
one could really expect me to paste such a scrumptious blanket-wrapper
into a scrap-book."

Laboriously wriggling his thinness and his coldness into the black
sheep's luxuriant, irresponsible fleece, a bulging side-pocket in the
wrapper bruised his hip. Reaching down very temperishly to the pocket
he drew forth a small lace-trimmed handkerchief knotted pudgily across
a brimming handful of fir-balsam needles. Like a scorching hot August
breeze the magic, woodsy fragrance crinkled through his nostrils.