ey made her sick, and she was
determined to have the bucket back.

Cap'n Moseby watched her as she ate. He emptied the remaining berries
out of the bucket into a large bowl. Then he sat opposite, on the
settle. Lafayette lay at his feet.

Mirandy finished the berries, and sat with the empty bowl in her lap.

"Finished 'em?" asked Cap'n Moseby.

"Yes, sir."

"Now, Mirandy Thayer, I'm going to ask you a question." Cap'n Moseby's
eyes looked into hers, and she looked back into his. "If you hadn't been
a little gal, Mirandy Thayer, what would you have been?"

Mirandy hesitated.

"Hey?" said Cap'n Moseby.

"One of my brothers," said Mirandy, doubtfully.

[Illustration: "'EAT 'EM!' ORDERED CAP'N MOSEBY"]

"No, you wouldn't. I'll tell you what you would have been. You would
have been a soldier, and you would have gone right up to the redcoats'
guns. Well, you must tend to your knittin'-work and your spinnin'. Now
what did you steal my berries for, hey?"

"To earn my shoes," faltered Mirandy; she felt a little bewildered.

"Earn your shoes?"

"Yes, sir; I 'ain't got any to wear to meetin'."

"Have to go barefoot?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, they went barefoot at Valley Forge; that's nothing. You wait a
minute, Mirandy Thayer."

And Mirandy waited until Cap'n Moseby had limped into another room and
back again. He had a pair of little rough shoes dangling in his hand.

"Here," said he, "these belonged to my Ezra that died. He had some grit
in him; he'd have done some marchin' in 'em if he'd lived. They'll jest
about fit you. It's a pity you're a little gal. Well, you must tend to
your knittin'-work and your spinnin'. Now you'd better run home, an'
don't you ever come stealin' my berries again, or you'll run faster than
they did at Lexington."

And so it happened that Mirandy went home, about three o'clock of that
summer afternoon, carrying her new shoes in her berry bucket, and Cap'n
Moseby limped along at her side. Mirandy did not know that he went to
explain matters to her mother, so that she should not be dealt with too
severely, but she was surprised that she received so small a chiding.

"Don't you ever let me hear of your doing such a thing again," said her
mother; and that was all she said.

The next Sunday Mirandy went up the aisle clattering bravely in little
Ezra Moseby's shoes, and she could not help looking often at them during
the sermon.

A PARSNIP STEW

Ruth stood by with a dish and