per this very night. She'll be so glad to
see you!'"

Dotty gave another glance at the sky, then one at the city clock.

"What time do you drink tea, Lina?"

"At five, 'most always."

Dotty had long felt a great curiosity about the domestic affairs of the
Jews; and here was an unexpected opportunity to sit down at the very
table with them. She had an invitation from the head of the family, and
that was something which did not happen every day. She could go home any
time afterwards; for their own tea-hour was not till half past six.

"I'll walk along with you a little way, Lina, and think it over."

It was true Mrs. Parlin did not approve of Mandoline or any of her
family; but Dotty thought she would forget that, just for once.

"O, dear! I keep thinking how my mamma said, 'I do not wish you to
play with Lina Rosenberg!' Now I can 'most always forget easy enough;
but when I TRY to forget, it says itself over and over--and I remember
just as hard!"

As they turned another corner they met Susy, who had been sent to the
dye-house.

"Why, Dotty," said she, "what are you doing on that street?"

Lina spoke up very boldly,--

"She's going to the doctor's with me, Susy Parlin, to get a plaster for
my mother."

At this wicked speech Dotty's heart almost sank into her boots; for she
had never known before that Lina would tell a deliberate lie.

Lina lived in a little grocery store. Her father was gone away to-day,>
and her mother had just served a customer with a pound of damp brown
sugar, saying, as she clipped the string,--

"It's very cheap sweetening at that price; we are going to rise on it
to-morrow."

After that she stood a minute in front of the store, and shook her
head at Jacob, a little boy, some three years old, who was trying to
balance a patent washboard against a tree which grew out of the brick
pavement. It was a large, scrawny tree, which looked as if it was
obliged to live there, but didn't want to, and had tried in vain to
get burnt up in the Portland fire. From the lower branches of the
tree depended a couple of dun-colored hams, and a painted board, with
the words, "Good Family Butter."

"Come in, Jacob, you naughty boy!" said Mrs. Rosenberg, this time shaking
him, because she was afraid he would injure the patent wash-board. Then
Jacob, who had been waiting for the shaking, and would not stir without
it, went in at the side door crying; for the family lived in one end of
the store.

Mrs