ice-cream freezer.

Even Fritz was scrubbed till he came out of his bath with his curls all
white and shining. He was proud of himself, from his silky bangs to the
tip of his tasselled tail.

Just before train time, the Little Colonel stuck his collar full of late
pink roses, and stood back to admire the effect. Her mother came to the
door, dressed for the evening. She wore an airy-looking dress of the
palest, softest blue. There was a white rosebud caught in her dark hair.
A bright colour, as fresh as Lloyd's own, tinged her cheeks, and the
glad light in her brown eyes made them unusually brilliant.

Lloyd jumped up and threw her arms about her. "Oh, mothah," she cried,
"you an' Fritz is so bu'ful!"

The engine whistled up the road at the crossing. "Come, we have just
time to get to the station," said Mrs. Sherman, holding out her hand.

They went through the gate, down the narrow path that ran beside the
dusty road. The train had just stopped in front of the little station
when they reached it.

A number of gentlemen, coming out from the city to spend Sunday at the
hotel, came down the steps. They glanced admiringly from the beautiful,
girlish face of the mother to the happy child dancing impatiently up and
down at her side. They could not help smiling at Fritz as he frisked
about in his imposing rose-collar.

"Why, where's Papa Jack?" asked Lloyd, in distress, as passenger after