ith
them, and how you tried to get into that blue one and got stuck, and the
other boys found us before I could pull you out?" asked Phebe, laughing.

"Yes, indeed, and speaking of angels, one is apt to hear the rustling
of their wings," added Rose, as a shrill whistle came up the avenue
accompanied by the clatter of hoofs.

"It is the circus!" cried Phebe gaily as they both recalled the red cart
and the charge of the clan.

There was only one boy now, alas, but he made noise enough for half a
dozen, and before Rose could run to the door, Jamie came bouncing in
with a "shining morning face," a bat over his shoulder, a red and white
jockey cap on his head, one pocket bulging with a big ball, the other
overflowing with cookies, and his mouth full of the apple he was just
finishing off in hot haste.

"Morning! I just looked in to make sure you'd really come and see that
you were all right," he observed, saluting with bat and doffing the gay
cap with one effective twitch.

"Good morning, dear. Yes, we really are here, and getting to rights as
fast as possible. But it seems to me you are rather gorgeous, Jamie.
What do you belong to a fire company or a jockey club?" asked Rose,
turning up the once chubby face, which now was getting brown and square
about the chin.

"No, ma'am! Why, don't you know? I'm captain of the Base Ball Star
Club. Look at that, will you?" And, as if the fact were one of national
importance, Jamie flung open his jacket to display upon his proudly
swelling chest an heart-shaped red flannel shield decorated with a white
cotton star the size of a tea plate.

"Superb! I've been away so long I forgot there was such a game. And you
the captain?" cried Rose, deeply impressed by the high honor to which
her kinsman had arrived.

"I just am, and it's no joke you'd better believe, for we knock our
teeth out, black our eyes, and split our fingers almost as well as the
big fellows. You come down to the Common between one and two and see us
play a match, then you'll understand what hard work it is. I'll teach
you to bat now if you'll come out on the lawn," added Jamie, fired with
a wish to exhibit his prowess.

"No, thank you, captain. The grass is wet, and you'll be late at school
if you stay for us."

"I'm not afraid. Girls are not good for much generally, but you never
used to mind a little wet and played cricket like a good one. Can't you
ever do that sort of thing now?" asked the boy, with a pitying