dainty infant outfit below.

Of course these most acceptable gifts were from the Grandet party,--now
in Boston,--who had proven themselves thus more constant than most
"summer friends," and generous almost beyond belief, as Sara thought.

The other red-letter day was one when the whole family was invited to
tea at Miss Prue's. They went early, as was the fashion in Killamet,
Morton stiff and conscious in his new suit, and baby filled with
undisguised admiration for his own new shoes, while both girls looked so
unusually "dressed-up" in their Boston finery, that Miss Prue naturally
concluded good Reuben Olmstead must have left his family well provided
for during his absence, and had not the slightest idea how closely
pressed they were for actual money.

They had been seated but a few moments, Morton gravely staring at the
dragon-china with meekly folded hands, Molly tilted on the edge of her
chair like a bird about to fly, and the baby on Sara's lap wide-eyed and
inquiring, when Polly thought the quiet was growing oppressive, and
broke out,--

"Pretty Poll! Pretty Poll! How d'ye do? Oh, you fools!" At which Molly
ran over in a rippling little giggle, so infectious that every one had
to join in.

Miss Prue turned to her with an indulgent smile.

"Bless her heart! It would be dull here if 'tweren't for Polly, wouldn't
it? Let's see, I've a new game somewhere, from Boston; it's bits of
rhyme and scraps of knowledge, I believe; I never played it, but perhaps