more," said Horace, looking fondly at his
pretty sister. "You're so airy now, it's as much as we can do to keep
your feet on the ground."

Flyaway wore a blue silk bonnet, with white lace around the face, a blue
dress and cloak, and pretty furs with a squirrel's head on the muff. She
had never been dressed so well before, and she knew it. She remembered
hearing "Phibby" say to "Tinka," "Don't that child look like an angel?"
Fly was sure she did, for big folks like Tinka must know. But here her
thoughts grew misty. All the angels she had ever heard of were brother
Harry and "the Charlie boy." How could she look like them?

"Does God dress 'em in a cloak and bonnet, you s'pose?" asked she of her
own thoughts.

Prudy and Dotty Dimple wore frocks of black and red plaid, white
cloaks, and black hats with scarlet feathers. Horace was satisfied that
a finer group of children could not be found in the city.

"Aunt Madge and I have no reason to be ashamed of them, I am sure,"
thought he, taking out his new watch every few minutes, not because he
wished to show it, but for fear it was losing time.

"How I wish we had Grace and Susey here! and then I should have all my
nieces," said Aunt Madge. "Is it possible these are the same children I
used to see at Willowbrook? Here is my only nephew, that drowned Prudy
on a log, grown tall enough to offer me his arm. (Why, Horace, your head
is higher than mine!) Here is Prudy, who tried yesterday--didn't
she?--to go up to heaven on a ladder, almost a young lady. Why, how old
it makes me feel!"

"But you don't look old," said Dotty, consolingly; "you don't look
married any more than Aunt Louise?"

Here they took an omnibus, and the children interested themselves in
watching the different people who sat near them.

"Aren't you glad to come?" said Dotty. "See that man getting out. What
is that little thing he's switching himself with?"

"That's a cane," replied Horace.

"A cane? Why, if Flyaway should lean on it, she'd break it in
two.--Prudy, look at that man in the corner; _his_ cane is funnier than
the other one."

Horace laughed.

"That is a pipe, Dotty--a meerschaum."

"Well, I don't see much difference," said Miss Dimple; "New York is the
queerest place. Such long pipes, and such short canes!"

Fly was too happy to talk, and sat looking out of the window until an
elegantly-dressed lady entered the stage, who attracted everybody's
attention; and then Flyaway started up,