the noise of them, and that, some day, she would be "kilt intirely"
by falling over them.

Alice held the little girl for hours, and, remembering Mrs. Hawkins'
complaint, called her "Martha" instead of "Mattie."

After the death of Capt. Obed Putnam, his companion, Uncle Ike came
down from his attic and had the room that Quincy occupied when he
boarded with Ezekiel Pettingill. He was now eighty-one years of age,
and too feeble to go up and down stairs, so his meals were taken to
his room.

He was greatly pleased to see Alice and to learn that there had been
no return of the trouble with her eyes.

"If we had known as much then as we do now, you wouldn't have needed
any doctor, Alice."

"Why, how's that?" she asked.

"Because the mind governs the body; as we think we are--we are."

"Well, Uncle Ike, why don't you think you are able to go down stairs
and walk back again?"

"I was referring to disease, not the infirmities of old age."

"What's the difference, Uncle?"

"I can't explain it, but there's a mighty sight of difference. I've