work-basket.

"No, I'm very sorry; for I like to see you
coming and going as you used to, years ago, and I
miss you very much when you are gone, John,"
answered truthful Nan, whittling away in a sadly
wasteful manner, as her thoughts flew back to the
happy times when a little lad rode a little lass in a
big wheelbarrow, and never spilt his load,--when
two brown heads bobbed daily side by side to
school, and the favorite play was "Babes in the
Wood," with Di for a somewhat peckish robin
to cover the small martyrs with any vegetable
substance that lay at hand. Nan sighed, as she
thought of these things, and John regarded the
battered thimble on his finger-tip with increased
benignity of aspect as he heard the sound.

"When are you going to make your fortune,
John, and get out of that disagreeable hardware
concern? " demanded Di, pausing after an
exciting "round," and looking almost as much
exhausted as if it had been a veritable pugilistic
encounter.

"I intend to make it by plunging still deeper
into 'that disagreeable hardware concern;' for,
next year, if the world keeps rolling, and
John Lord is alive, he will become a partner, and then
--and then--"