speak!

And then a funny thing happened. I looked at Mother, and I saw her
head come up with a queer little jerk.

"Well, yes, I am thinking of going," she said, just as calm and cool
as could be. "When does he speak, Father?"

And when Aunt Hattie pooh-poohed some more, and asked how _could_ she
do such a thing, Mother answered:

"Because Charles Anderson is the father of my little girl, and I think
she should hear him speak. Therefore, Hattie, I intend to take her."

And then she asked Grandfather again when Father was going to speak.

I'm so excited! Only think of seeing my father up on a big platform
with a lot of big men, and hearing him speak! And he'll be the very
smartest and handsomest one there, too. You see if he isn't!

* * * * *

_Two weeks and one day later_.

Oh, I've got a lot to write this time--I mean, a lot has happened.
Still, I don't know as it's going to take so very long to tell it.
Besides, I'm almost too excited to write, anyway. But I'm going to do
the best I can to tell it, just as it happened.

Father's here--right here in Boston. I don't know when he came. But
the first day of the meeting was day before yesterday, and he was here
then. The paper said he was, and his picture was there, too. There
were a lot of pictures, but his was away ahead of the others. It was
the very best one on the page. (I told you it would be that way.)

Mother saw it first. That is, I think she did. She had the paper in
her hand, looking at it, when I came into the room; but as soon as she
saw me she laid it right down quick on the table. If she hadn't been
quite so quick about it, and if she hadn't looked quite so queer when
she did it, I wouldn't have thought anything at all. But when I went
over to the table after she had gone, and saw the paper with Father's
picture right on the first page--and the biggest picture there--I knew
then, of course, what she'd been looking at.

I looked at it then, and I read what it said, too. It was lovely. Why,
I hadn't any idea Father was so big. I was prouder than ever of him.
It told all about the stars and comets he'd discovered, and the books
he'd written on astronomy, and how he was president of the college at
Andersonville, and that he was going to give an address the next day.
And I read it all--every word. And I made up my mind right there and
then that I'd cut out that piece and save it.

But that night, when I went to the li