apped your lips when they didn't want you
to speak, and stole your Pilgrim's Progresses? No, thank you. I would
much rather stay as I am."

"I wouldn't," replied Johnnie pensively. "I don't like this place very
much. I should love to be rich and to travel in Europe."

At this moment Papa and Katy came in together. Katy was laughing, and
Papa looked as if he had just bitten a smile off short. In his hand was
a letter.

"Oh, Clovy," began Katy, but Papa interposed with "Katy, hold your
tongue;" and though he looked quizzical as he said it, Katy saw that he
was half in earnest, and stopped at once.

"We're about to have a visitor," he went on, picking Johnnie up and
settling her in his lap,--"a distinguished visitor. Curly, you must put
on your best manners, for she comes especially to see you."

"A visitor! How nice! Who is it?" cried Clover and Johnnie with one
voice. Visitors were rare in Burnet, and the children regarded them
always as a treat.

"Her name is Miss Inches,--Marion Joanna Inches," replied Dr. Carr,
glancing at the letter. "She's a sort of godmother of yours, Curly;
you've got half her name."

"Was I really named after her?"

"Yes. She and Mamma were school-friends, and though they never met after
leaving school, Mamma was fond of her, and when little No. 4 came, she
decided to call her after her old intimate. That silver mug of yours was
a present from her."

"Was it? Where does she live?"

"At a place called Inches Mills, in Massachusetts. She's the rich lady
of the village, and has a beautiful house and grounds, where she lives
all alone by herself. Her letter is written at Niagara. She is going to
the Mammoth Cave, and writes to ask if it will be convenient for us to
have her stop for a few days on the way. She wants to see her old
friend's children, she says, and especially her namesake."

"Oh, dear!" sighed Johnnie, ruffling her short hairs with her fingers.
"I wish my curls were longer. What _will_ she think when she sees me?"

"She'll think

"There is a little girl, and she has a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead;
When she is good she is very, very good,
And when she is bad she is horrid--"

said Dr. Carr, laughing. But Johnnie didn't laugh back. Her lip
trembled, and she said,--

"I'm not horrid _really_, am I?"

"Not a bit," replied her father; "you're only a little goose now and
then, and I'm such an old gander th