Dolly and me--there
couldn't be thirteen and _not_ be thirteen."

"No, it is difficult, I own, to see how that could be," said mamma. "But
queer things do happen--there are queer answers to puzzles
now-and-then."

"I wish it was settled about ours," said Dolly, with a sigh. "I--I don't
like quarrelling with dear Maxie," and she suddenly buried her face in
her mother's lap and began to cry--not loudly, but you could see she was
crying by the way her fat little shoulders quivered and shook.

This was too much for Max.

"Dolly," he said, tugging at her till she was obliged to look up,
"_don't_--I can't bear you to be unhappy because of--because of me--do
kiss me, Dolly, and don't let us ever think any more about those stupid
little black pigs."

So they kissed each other, and it was "all right."

"But," said Dolly, "I'm so afraid it'll begin again when we see them.
Could papa ask Farmer Wilder to put them somewhere else, mamma? We can't
leave off looking out of our windows, _can_ we?"

"I think it would be rather a babyish way of keeping from quarrelling,
to ask to have the temptation to quarrel put away," said mamma.
"Besides--it would _have_ to be settled, you see."

[Illustration: So they kissed each other]

"Yes, but," said Dolly, "then one of us would have to be wrong, and I'd
rather go on fancying that _somehow_ neither of us was wrong."

"That's rubbish," said Max, "it _couldn't_ be."

"Listen," said mamma; "promise me that neither of you will look out of
the window to-morrow morning before you see me. Then if it is really a
fine mild day, the doctor says you may both go a little walk."

"_Oh_, how nice!" interrupted the little prisoners. "And I will take you
myself," their mother went on. "Immediately after your dinner--about two
o'clock will be the best time. And we will see if we can't settle the
question of the thir--no, I had better not say how many--of the little
black pigs, in a satisfactory way."

Mamma smiled at the children--her smile was very nice, but there was a
little sparkle of mischief in her eyes too. And _I_ may tell _you_, in
confidence, though she had not said so to Max and Dolly, that that
afternoon she had passed Farmer Wilder's when she was out walking with
their father, and had stood at the gate of the very field which the
children saw from the nursery window, where the little black pigs were
gambolling about. And Farmer Wilder had happened to come by himself, and
he and his