ng the same stale jokes or caustic remarks about Mrs.
Atterson's food from Fred Crackit and the young men boarders of his
class, or the grumbling of Mr. Peebles, the dyspeptic invalid, or the
inane monologue of Old Lem Camp.

And Mrs. Atterson herself--good soul though she was--had gotten on Hiram
Strong's nerves, too. With her heat-blistered face, near-sighted eyes
peering through beclouded spectacles, and her gown buttoned up hurriedly
and with a gap here and there where a button was missing, she was the
typically frowsy, hurried, nagged-to-death boarding house mistress.

And as for "Sister," Mrs. Atterson's little slavey and
maid-of-all-work----

"Well, Sister's the limit!" smiled Hiram, as he turned into the street,
with its rows of ugly brick houses on either hand. "I believe Fred
Crackit has got it right. Mrs. Atterson keeps Sister instead of a
cat--so there'll be something to kick."

The half-grown girl--narrow-chested, round shouldered, and sallow--had
been taken by Mrs. Atterson from some charity institution. "Sister," as
the boarders all called her, for lack of any other cognomen, would have
her yellow hair in four attenuated pigtails hanging down her back, and
she would shuffle about the dining-room in a pair of Mrs. Atterson's old
shoes----

"By Jove! there she is now," exclaimed the startled youth.

At the corner of the street several "slices" of the brick block had
been torn away and the lot cleared for the erection of some business
building. Running across this open space with wild shrieks and spilling
the milk from the big pitcher she carried--milk for the boarders' tea,
Hi knew--came Mrs. Atterson's maid.

Behind her, and driving her like a horse by the ever present "pigtails,"
bounded a boy of about her own age--a laughing, yelling imp of a boy
whom Hiram knew very well.

"That Dan Dwight is the meanest little scamp at this end of the town!"
he said to himself.

The noise the two made attracted only the idle curiosity of a few
people. It was a locality where, even on Sundays, there was more or less
noise.

Sister begged and screamed. She feared she would spill the milk and told
Dan, Junior, so. But he only drove her the harder, yelling to her to
"Get up!" and yanking as hard as he could on the braids.

"Here! that's enough of that!" called Hiram, stepping quickly toward the
two.

For Sister had stopped exhausted, and in tears.

"Be off with you!" commanded Hiram. "You've plagued the gi