violet eyes, that were still sparkling with
tears, to her benefactor's face.

"Pooh! It wasn't anything," said Dan, shyly.

"Yes, it was. You threw your cap fine. My brothers couldn't have done it,
I know. They would have just laughed and teased, and let Bobby fly away
forever. You are the nicest boy I ever saw," continued Bobby's mistress,
who was at the age when young ladies speak their mind frankly. "What is
your name?"

"Dan Dolan," was the reply, with the smile that showed Aunt Winnie's boy
at his best. "Let me carry your bird cage to the house for you. It is too
heavy for a little girl."

"Oh, thank you! But I'm not such a little girl as you think: I am nearly
ten years old," said the young lady, as Dan took up Bobby and his cage,
and they proceeded up the broad gravelled path to the house; "and my name
is Polly Forester, and--"

"Forester!" blurted out Dan. "Then I'm on the wrong track. They told me
this was the Foster house."

"Oh, no!" Miss Polly shook her head, that, with its golden brown ringlets,
looked very much like a flower itself. "This has been our house for more
than a hundred years. My grandfather lived here, and my great-grandfather
and all my grandfathers. One of them fought with George Washington; we've
got his sword. Would you like to see it?" asked Miss Polly, becoming
graciously hospitable as they approached the porch.

"I'm afraid I haven't time," answered Dan. "You see, I'm looking for two
of our fellows. We're a lot of St. Andrew's boys off for the summer, and
the boat is waiting to take us back to Killykinick."

"Oh, are you staying there?" asked the young lady, with wide-eyed
interest. "I've passed it often in dad's yacht."

"Polly dear!" called a sweet voice, and a grown-up image of that young
person came hurriedly out on the porch,--a lovely lady, all in soft
trailing white and blue ribbons. "What is the matter? Your cry woke me out
of a sound sleep and put me all in a flutter."

"O mamma dear, I'm sorry! But it was Bobby. He flew out of his cage when I
was trying to teach him to perch on my hand, and got away. He would have
gone forever if this nice boy had not caught him for me! His name is Dan
Dolan, mamma, and he is staying at Killykinick with a lot of college boys.
Dan is looking for the other boys, who are at the Fosters; and some one
told him this was the house, and he came just in time to catch my Bobby
under his cap, and--"

"The Fosters?" interrupted mamma, who was