makes you want to laugh too. She can't even keep a straight face
in church. Una is ten--she's a sweet little thing--not pretty,
but sweet. And Thomas Carlyle is nine. They call him Carl, and
he has a regular mania for collecting toads and bugs and frogs
and bringing them into the house."

"I suppose he was responsible for the dead rat that was lying on
a chair in the parlour the afternoon Mrs. Grant called. It gave
her a turn," said Susan, "and I do not wonder, for manse parlours
are no places for dead rats. To be sure it may have been the cat
who left it, there. HE is as full of the old Nick as he can be
stuffed, Mrs. Dr. dear. A manse cat should at least LOOK
respectable, in my opinion, whatever he really is. But I never
saw such a rakish-looking beast. And he walks along the
ridgepole of the manse almost every evening at sunset, Mrs. Dr.
dear, and waves his tail, and that is not becoming."

"The worst of it is, they are NEVER decently dressed," sighed
Miss Cornelia. "And since the snow went they go to school
barefooted. Now, you know Anne dearie, that isn't the right
thing for manse children--especially when the Methodist
minister's little girl always wears such nice buttoned boots.
And I DO wish they wouldn't play in the old Methodist graveyard."

"It's very tempting, when it's right beside the manse," said
Anne. "I've always thought graveyards must be delightful places
to play in."

"Oh, no, you did not, Mrs. Dr. dear," said loyal Susan,
determined to protect Anne from herself. "You have too much good