ry, and I like it, though it did make me cry. Thank
you very much, Si," and Daisy helped him fold and put away his little
relic; while Nan stuffed a handful of pop-corn into his pocket, and the
boys loudly expressed their flattering opinions of his story, feeling
that there had been two heroes in it.

He departed, quite overcome by his honors, and the little conspirators
talked the tale over, while they waited for their next victim. It was
Mrs. Jo, who came in to measure Nan for some new pinafores she was
making for her. They let her get well in, and then pounced upon her,
telling her the law, and demanding the story. Mrs. Jo was very much
amused at the new trap, and consented at once, for the sound of happy
voices had been coming across the hall so pleasantly that she quite
longed to join them, and forget her own anxious thoughts of Sister Meg.

"Am I the first mouse you have caught, you sly pussies-in-boots?"
she asked, as she was conducted to the big chair, supplied with
refreshments, and surrounded by a flock of merry-faced listeners.

They told her about Silas and his contribution, and she slapped her
forehead in despair, for she was quite at her wits' end, being called
upon so unexpectedly for a bran new tale.

"What shall I tell about?" she said.

"Boys," was the general answer.

"Have a party in it," said Daisy.

"And something good to eat," added Stuffy.

"That reminds me of a story, written years ago, by a dear old lady. I
used to be very fond of it, and I fancy you will like it, for it has
both boys, and 'something good to eat' in it."

"What is it called?" asked Demi.

"'The Suspected Boy.'"

Nat looked up from the nuts he was picking, and Mrs. Jo smiled at him,
guessing what was in his mind.

"Miss Crane kept a school for boys in a quiet little town, and a very
good school it was, of the old-fashioned sort. Six boys lived in her
house, and four or five more came in from the town. Among those who
lived with her was one named Lewis White. Lewis was not a bad boy, but
rather timid, and now and then he told a lie. One day a neighbor sent
Miss Crane a basket of gooseberries. There were not enough to go round,
so kind Miss Crane, who liked to please her boys, went to work and made
a dozen nice little gooseberry tarts."

"I'd like to try gooseberry tarts. I wonder if she made them as I do
my raspberry ones," said Daisy, whose interest in cooking had lately
revived.

"Hush," said Nat, tucking a pl