r as I came along and
made my toilet in a place where Milton's Sabrina might have lived,"
he said, shaking back his damp hair and settling the knot of scarlet
bunchberries stuck in his buttonhole.

"You look as if you found the nymph at home," said Rose, knowing how
much he liked the "Comus."

"I found her here," and he made a little bow.

"That's very pretty, and I'll give you one in return. You grow more like
Uncle Alec every day, and I think I'll call you Alec, Jr."

"Alexander the Great wouldn't thank you for that," and Mac did not look
as grateful as she had expected.

"Very like, indeed, except the forehead. His is broad and benevolent,
yours high and arched. Do you know if you had no beard, and wore your
hair long, I really think you'd look like Milton," added Rose, sure that
would please him.

It certainly did amuse him, for he lay back on the hay and laughed so
heartily that his merriment scared the squirrel on the wall and woke
Dulce.

"You ungrateful boy! Will nothing suit you? When I say you look like the
best man I know, you gave a shrug, and when I liken you to a great poet,
you shout. I'm afraid you are very conceited, Mac." And Rose laughed,
too, glad to see him so gay.

"If I am, it is your fault. Nothing I can do will ever make a Milton of
me, unless I go blind someday," he said, sobering at the thought.

"You once said a man could be what he liked if he tried hard enough, so
why shouldn't you be a poet?" asked Rose, liking to trip him up with his
own words, as he often did her.

"I thought I was to be an M.D."

"You might be both. There have been poetical doctors, you know."

"Would you like me to be such a one?" asked Mac, looking at her as
seriously as if he really thought of trying it.

"No. I'd rather have you one or the other. I don't care which, only
you must be famous in either you choose. I'm very ambitious for you,
because, I insist upon it, you are a genius of some sort. I think it is
beginning to simmer already, and I've got a great curiosity to know what
it will turn out to be."

Mac's eyes shone as she said that, but before he could speak a little
voice said, "Aunty Wose!" and he turned to find Dulce sitting up in her
nest staring at the broad blue back before her with round eyes.

"Do you know your Don?" he asked, offering his hand with respectful
gentleness, for she seemed a little doubtful whether he was a friend or
stranger.

"It is 'Mat,'" said Rose, and that fam