thing to her before she lay--before that. Aunt Olivia shut her eyes
resolutely to the vision that had intruded upon her musings. It was
Rebecca Mary who was laughing somewhere out there that she wanted to see.

The next day was Sunday, and in the quiet of the long afternoon Rebecca
Mary read aloud again to Thomas Jefferson. It was from the little
cookbook diary. Thomas Jefferson was pecking about the long grass of
the orchard.

"0h, listen!" cried Rebecca Mary, her eyes unwontedly shining. "Listen
to this, Thomas Jefferson!

"'SATURDAY.--Wind northwest by Mrs. Tupper's Weather vain. Something
happened yesterday. Aunt Olivia didn't say it, but she most did.
She came right out of her bedroom and I saw it in her face! "Dear"--
"darling,"--they were both there, and she was looking at me! Nobody
EVER looked "dear" "darling" at me before. I suppose my mother would
have. If I hadent had another mother I think I should like to have
had Aunt Olivia.

"'You feel that way more after you get akquainted. When I get VERY
akquainted prehaps I shall tell Aunt Olivia. Its quear, I think, how
it isent as easy to say some things as it is to think them. You can
wright them easier too. I am glad Ime keeping a diary because I can
wright about yesterday and what happenned. I shall read it to my grand
children--to be continude.

"'SUNDAY'--that's today, Thomas Jefferson,--'SUNDAY.--This is yesterday
continude, because there was too mutch for one day. Something else
beutiful happenned. My Aunt Olivia said to me as folows, I have