w him no more; the little library was neglected; the wood-box half the
time forgotten; and the arithmetic, always a source of trouble, tangled
itself into a hopeless snarl of which Bobby's blurred mental vision
could make nothing.

All of his spare time he spent at his toy printing press, trying over
and over for a perfect result--unblurred, well-registered, well
aligned--in the shape of calling cards for "Miss Celia Carleton."

As soon as they were done to his satisfaction, he wrapped them in a
clumsy package, and set out for the Ottawa, followed, as always, by
Duke.

He found Celia alone in a rocking chair.

"Why didn't you come down this morning?" she asked him at once.

Bobby held up the package and looked mysterious.

"This," said he.

"Oh! what is it?" she cried, jumping up.

"I made it," said Bobby.

"What is it?" insisted Celia. "Show it to me."

But Bobby thrust the package firmly into his pocket.

"Up past our house there's a fine sand-hill to slide down," said he,
"and we got a fine fort over the hill, and I know where there's a place
you can climb up on where you can see 'most to Redding."

"Show me what you've got!" pleaded Celia.

"I will," Bobby developed his plan, "if you'll come up and play in the
fort."

"All right," agreed Celia in a breath; "I'll tell mamma I'm going. And
I'll hunt up the others."

"I don't want the others to go," announced Bobby boldly.

She calmed to a great stillness, and looked at him with intent eyes.

"All right," she agreed quietly after a moment.

They walked up the street together, followed by the solemn black and
white dog. The shop windows did not detain them, as ordinarily. At the
fire-engine house they turned under the dense shade of the maples. But
by the end of the second block said Bobby:

"We'll go this way."

He was afraid of encountering Angus, or perhaps the Fuller boys.

The sand-hill proved toilsome to Celia, but without a single pause she
struggled bravely up its sliding, cascading yellow surface to the top.
Then she stood still, panting a little, her cheeks flushed, her eyes
bright, the tiniest curls about her forehead wet and matted with
perspiration. With a great adoration, Bobby looked upon her slender
figure held straight against the blue sky. Almost--almost dared he
speak. At least that is what he thought until the words rose to his
lips; and then all at once he realized what a wide gulf lay between the
imagined and the spoken w