im for life!"

"Yes," said Bennie, "the lower part of him is as limber as a rag."

"She don't sense a word you say," remarked Mrs. Brooks, shaking up a
pillow, "See what we can get out of her. What's your name, dear?"

"Katie Clifford."

"Where do you live?"

"I _have_ been borned in Nindiana."

Fly spoke with some pride. She considered her birth an honor to the
state.

"But where did you come from, Katie? That's what we mean."

"I camed from heaven," said the child, with one of her wise looks.

"Beats all, don't she?" cried Mr. Brooks, admiringly. "Looks like an
angel, I declare for't. Did you just drop down out of the sky?"

"No, sir," answered Flyaway, folding her little hands as if she were
saying her prayers; "I camed down when I was a baby."

[Illustration: "I CAMED DOWN WHEN I WAS A BABY."]

"That's what makes your hair so _goldy_," said Bennie. "Mother, did you
ever see such eyes? Say, did you ever? So soft, and kinder shiny, too."

"Children, don't stare at her; it makes her uneasy."

"_I_ can't stare at her," said Maria, bitterly. "I suppose you don't
mean me, mother."

Mrs. Brooks only answered her poor daughter by a kiss.

"Well, little Katie, after you were born in _Nindiana_, you came to New
York. When did you come?"

"One of these other days I camed here with Hollis."

"Who's Hollis?"

"He's my own brother. Got a new cap. Had his hair cut."

"Who did you come to New York to see?" "My auntie."

"Her auntie! A great deal of satisfaction we are likely to get out of
this child," said Mr. Brooks, laughing. He had not laughed before for a
week.

"What's your auntie's name?"

"Aunt Madge."

"Is she married?"

"O, yes; and so's Uncle 'Gustus. Married together, and live together,
just the same."

"Uncle 'Gustus who? Now we'll come at it!"

"Alling," replied Fly, her quick eyes roving about the room, for she was
tired of these questions.

"Allen, Augustus Allen!" said Mr. Brooks, in surprise; "I wonder if
there can be two of them. Tell me, child, how does he look?"

"Don't look like you," replied Fly, after a keen survey of Mr. Brooks.
"Your face is pulled away down long, like that;" (stretching her hand
out straight) "Uncle 'Gustus's face is squeezed up short" (doubling her
hand into a ball)

"I'll warrant it is the colonel himself," said Mrs. Brooks, smiling at
the description.

"Yes, that's the name of him; the 'kernil's' the name of him."

"Is it possible!" said Mr. B