e Larry,--to--to Her, you
know? With Her name on?"

Uncle Larry was getting into his overcoat. He laughed. The tender
light that had been for an instant in his face he had put away again
out of sight.

"No; I'm my own ''spressman.' You've got some things to learn, Reg,
before you grow up."

"I'd ravver learn 'em now. Tell me 'em! Tell what you do _then_."

The old mocking light was back in Uncle Larry's eyes. This small chap
with the earnest little face was good as a play.

"'_Then'?_ Then, sure, I go to the door and ring the bell. Then I
kneel on one knee like this, and hold out the box--"

"The Treasury Box--yes, go on."

"--Like this. And I say, 'Fair One, accept this humble offering, I
beseech thee'--"

"Accept this hum-bul offering, I--I beseech thee"--the Little Lover
was saying it over and over to himself. It was a little hard, on
account o' the queer words in it. He was still saying it after Uncle
Larry had gone. His small round face was intent and serious. When he
had learned the words, he practised getting down on one knee and
holding out an imaginary Treasury Box. That was easier than the queer
words, but it made you feel funnier somewhere in your inside. You
wanted to cry, and you were a little afraid somebody else would want
to laugh.

The next afternoon the Little Lover carried his Treasury Box to Her.
He had wrapped all the little treasures carefully in tissue like
Uncle Larry's roses. But there was no beautiful smell creeping
out;--there was something a little like a smell, but not a beautiful
one. The Little Lover felt sorry for that.

She came to the door. It was a little discomposing on account of
there being so little time to get your breath in. I-it made you feel
funny.

But the Little Lover acted well his part. With a little gasp that was
like a sob he sank on one knee and held up the Treasury Box to Her.

"Fair One," he quivered, softly, "accept this--offspring--no, I mean
this _hum-bul_ offspring, I--I--oh, I mean _please!_"

She stooped to the level of his little, solemn face. Then suddenly
She lifted him, Treasury Box and all, and bore him into a great,
bright room.

"Why, Reggie!--you are Reggie, aren't you? You're the little boy that
smiles at me across the aisle in church? I thought so! Well, I am so
glad you have come to see me. And to think you have brought me a
present, too--"

"I be-seech thee!" quivered the Little Lover, suddenly remembering
the queer words that ha