mother, the season had been quite free from gales, or "breezes" as the
fishermen call them; for with these hardy people a good-sized tornado is
only a "stiffish breeze" usually.

But when these new, delightful friends went away, it seemed as if
everything changed. Dull, foggy days, with fitful gusts, succeeded to
the lovely month just gone, and the skies were leaden and threatening.

Then, too, little by little, the wolf began creeping towards their door,
for Sara, in the large liberality of her nature, did not well know how
to deny the eager wants of the children, so long as she had any means to
gratify them; and was not so wise in hoarding against a rainy day as an
older head might have been.

Still further, to add to her gloom, baby had a slight attack of measles,
over which she worried more than was necessary; and, altogether, August
was for her a blue month, with only two bright spots to recall.

One of these was when Morton, red and exultant, came lugging home a
mammoth express package, with Molly, fish-knife in hand, dancing about
him like some crazy Apache squaw about a war-captive, though she was
only impatient to cut the cord.

When her wish was finally gratified, Sara's delighted eyes beheld two
volumes she had long been wishing for, and a pretty dress-pattern;
Morton's caught sight of some tackle that fairly electrified him, with a
suit of clothes better than he had ever owned before; Molly's darted
with lightning speed to a neat jacket and hat, also a handsome herbarium
book for her algae; while baby set up a squeal of joy at sight of some
novel toys and picture-books, leaving Sara to the full appreciation of a