es and comparing of marks. Returning, after a
brief absence, Mrs. Minot beheld the countenances of the workers adorned
with gay stamps, giving them a very curious appearance.

"My dears! what new play have you got now? Are you wild Indians?
or letters that have gone round the world before finding the right
address?" she asked, laughing at the ridiculous sight, for both were as
sober as judges and deeply absorbed in some doubtful specimen.

"Oh, we just stuck them there to keep them safe; they get lost if we
leave them lying round. It's very handy, for I can see in a minute what
I want on Jill's face and she on mine, and put our fingers on the
right chap at once," answered Jack, adding, with an anxious gaze at his
friend's variegated countenance, "Where the dickens _is_ my New Granada?
It's rare, and I wouldn't lose it for a dollar."

"Why, there it is on your own nose. Don't you remember you put it there
because you said mine was not big enough to hold it?" laughed Jill,
tweaking a large orange square off the round nose of her neighbor,
causing it to wrinkle up in a droll way, as the gum made the operation
slightly painful.

"So I did, and gave you Little Bolivar on yours. Now I'll have Alsace
and Lorraine, 1870. There are seven of them, so hold still and see how
you like it," returned Jack, picking the large, pale stamps one by one
from Jill's forehead, which they crossed like a band.

She bore it without flinching, saying to herself with a secret smile, as
she glanced at the hot fire, which scorched her if she kept near enough
to Jack to help him, "This really is being like a missionary, with a
tattooed savage to look after. I have to suffer a little, as the good
folks did who got speared and roasted sometimes; but I won't complain a
bit, though my forehead smarts, my arms are tired, and one cheek is as
red as fire."

"The Roman States make a handsome page, don't they?" asked Jack, little
dreaming of the part he was playing in Jill's mind. "Oh, I say, isn't
Corea a beauty? I'm ever so proud of that;" and he gazed fondly on a big
blue stamp, the sole ornament of one page.

"I don't see why the Cape of Good Hope has pyramids. They ought to go in
Egypt. The Sandwich Islands are all right, with heads of the black kings
and queens on them," said Jill, feeling that they were very appropriate
to her private play.

"Turkey has crescents, Australia swans, and Spain women's heads, with
black bars across them. Frank say