hirl so fast; for it went at a
wonderful rate, especially when any one was looking on.

"I'm spinning warp for my new gown," said Patty; "and Rachel is going to
weave it."

"What color will it be?"

"Blue and copperas, in little checks," replied Patty.

Linda knew what copperas color was,--it was a dull yellow.

"'Twill only be for me to go to school in," explained Patty. "I shall
have it for my _not-very-best_. By and by I'm going to learn how to spin
linen on that little flax-wheel, and Rachel will weave me some
table-cloths, and sheets, and pillow-cases, just as she does for
Dorcas. Guess why she weaves them for Dorcas."

"I'm sure I can't guess. Because she wants to, I suppose."

"Look here--it's a secret. Dorcas is going to be married by and by, and
that is the reason Mr. Starbird comes here on that white-faced horse. He
doesn't come to see the rest of us; he comes to see Dorcas."

Patty stopped her wheel in her eagerness.

"Yes; and you know, when I was a little speck of a girl, I spilled some
hot tallow over, and burnt his hand; and he says that is the reason he
is going to marry Dorcas."

"What! because you burnt his hand?"

"Yes. I don't see why that made him like Dorcas," said Patty,
reflectively; "but that's what he said. And then I shall have eight
brothers; won't it be nice?"

"Does Betsey Potter know?"

"Yes. I told her."

"Well, I should have thought you might have told me first," said Linda,
pouting. "I don't like it very well to have you tell me last."

"O, I told Betsey first because she came first. I never heard of it
myself till this morning," said Patty, innocently.

She was never known to keep a secret twenty-four hours.

The idea of a wedding in the family was perfectly delightful to the
little girl, and after this she used to watch for Mr. Starbird every
third week, just as regularly as Dorcas did, and was almost as much
pleased when she saw him coming on his white-faced horse.

It was so nice to think of having more brothers; for as yet poor Patty
had only seven!

CHAPTER XV.

THE BRASS KETTLE.

There was a great time that year preparing for Thanksgiving. It seemed
as if the tall clock had never ticked so fast before, nor the full moon
smiled down from the top of it with such a jolly face.

"It's going to be what you may call a sort of a double Thanksgiving,"
said Moses.

"Why?" asked Patty. "Because there'll be double turkeys and double
puddings?"

"No,