hed her shoulder, to ask her in kindly pity
what she was crying for.

That was really the last straw, and Nealie gurgled and choked as if she
were going to have a very bad fit of hysterics, which made the
sympathizer--a kind-looking elderly man--still more concerned on her
account.

"My dear, shall I call the stewardess, or one of your friends, to help
you?" he asked, with so much anxiety on her account that Nealie was
instantly sobered, and proceeded to explain the situation.

"You see, Rumple, that is my brother, always does take himself and his
poetry so seriously; but the worst of it is that everyone who hears him
recite his own things fancies it is the latest idea in comedy, and they
laugh accordingly."

"And I have been watching you for the last five minutes, until I could
no longer bear to see you, as I thought, in such trouble, and that was
why I spoke to you," the gentleman said, scarcely able to make up his
mind whether he was vexed with her for having so innocently deceived
him, or whether he was only relieved to find himself mistaken.

"You must think us all very foolish and childish, I am afraid," Nealie
murmured in apology. "But the children must have amusement, and we are
always interested in what we can each do. Some of Rumple's verses are
quite nice, although, of course, others are pure nonsense."

"Just so, just so; young folks must have something to amuse them, and it
is very much to the credit of you all that you are so thoroughly amused
by it, and I do not remember that I have ever heard you quarrel since
you came on board," the gentleman said in a musing tone.

"We do not quarrel," rejoined Nealie with quite crushing dignity, for
really the idea sounded almost insulting in her ears.

"Then you as a family must be the eighth wonder of the world, I should
think, for I never heard of a family yet who did not have an occasional
row," he said in an amused tone.

"Oh, but we are different; and besides we only have each other, and so
we cannot afford to disagree," she replied earnestly.

"Are you orphans, and going to Australia alone?" he asked in great
surprise.

"Oh no, we are not orphans; that is, our father is living in New South
Wales, and we are going out to him, but we have not seen him for seven
years. Indeed, Ducky, that is my youngest sister, may be said not to
have seen him at all, as she was only four weeks old when he went away;
the little boys do not remember him very well eithe