y common
employment in some parts of New England, her attention was suddenly
diverted by a tall, stylish-looking young man, who, driving his
handsome horse and buggy under the shadow of the apple-trees, alighted
and entered into conversation with a group of little girls who were
taking their usual recess. Mrs. Perkins's curiosity was roused, and
Sally Ann was called to see who the stranger was. But for a wonder,
Sally Ann didn't know, though she "guessed the hoss was one of the
East Chicopee livery."

"He's talkin' to Liddy Knight," said she, at the same time holding
back the curtain, and stepping aside so as not to be visible herself.

"Try if you can hear what he's sayin," whispered Mrs. Perkins; but a
class of boys in the school-house just then struck into the
multiplication table, thus effectually drowning any thing which Sally
Ann might otherwise have heard.

"I know them children will split their throats. Can't they hold up a
minute," exclaimed Mrs. Perkins, greatly annoyed at being thus
prevented from overhearing a conversation, the nature of which she
could not even guess.

But as some other Widow Perkins may read this story we will for her
benefit repeat what the young man was saying to Lydia Knight, who
being nearest to him was the first one addressed.

"You have a nice place for your school-house and play-grounds."

"Yes, sir," answered Lydia, twirling her sun-bonnet and taking up a
small round stone between her naked toes.

"Do you like to go to school?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have you a good teacher?"

"Yes, sir."

"What is her name?"

"Miss Howard,--Mary Howard, and she lives with Miss Mason."

"Mary Howard,--that's a pretty name,--is she pretty too?"

"Not so dreadful," chimed in Susan Bradley. "She licked brother Tim
to-day, and I don't think she's much pretty."

This speech quickly called out the opinion of the other girls as
follows:

"He ought to be licked, for he stole a knife and then lied about it;
and Miss Howard is real pretty, and you needn't say she ain't, Susan
Bradley."

"Yes, indeed, she's pretty," rejoined a second. "Such handsome eyes,
and little white hands."

"What color are her eyes?" asked the stranger, to which two replied,
"blue," and three more said "black;" while Lydia Knight, who was the
oldest of the group, finally settled the question by saying, that
"they sometimes looked blue; but if she was real pleased, or sorry
either, they turned black!"

The stranger s