pig," Patricia said, as they rode off, but
her words were not heard by Mandy or Chub, for the youthful driver was
shouting a loud warning to Chub to throw no more snowballs for fear of a
sound thrashing followed by arrest, while Chub, afraid to throw the
snowballs, hurled after the pung the worst names that he could think
of.

"That horthe ith thlow ath a old moolly cow! It'th an old thlow-poke!
What a thkinny nag! That horthe eath nothin' but newthpaper and
thtring!" he yelled.

"That Chub is just a horrid-looking child," said Patricia, "an' he's the
Jimmy boy's brother, but nobody'd ever think it."

"Who's the Jimmy boy?" Arabella asked.

"Why, don't you know the boy that we see sometimes at Dorothy Dainty's
house?"

Arabella shook her head.

"I mean the one that wears a cap with a gold band on it, and a coat with
brass buttons, and tries to walk like a man when Mr. Dainty sends him
out with parcels," explained Patricia.

"Oh, I know," said Arabella, "but _he's_ real _nice_ looking, and
Dorothy says her father thinks he's smart. I shouldn't think he could be
brother to that little pig or that Mandy girl."

"Well, he is, and one thing Dorothy said one day I couldn't understand.
She said that one reason why her father was so kind to Jimmy is because
Jimmy helped to get Nancy Ferris home one time when she was stolen from
them. Did you ever hear 'bout that? I don't see how just a boy could do
that, do you?"

No, Arabella did not see, nor had she heard the story, but she had seen
Jimmy, and she wondered that he belonged to such a family as that which
produced Mandy and Chub.

"Ye're 'most home," declared the driver, "an' soon's I've landed ye
I'll hev ter scoot."

"But you'll have to take Arabella home; she lives 'way over the other
side of the town," insisted Patricia.

"Oh, no, no, he _won't_!" said Arabella. "I'd rather walk all the way
than have Aunt Matilda know that I've been sleighing."

"Why, how funny!" and Patricia stared in surprise.

"It's funnier now than it would be when Aunt Matilda found it out."

"Why?" Patricia asked.

"Because," said Arabella, "whenever I've been out, and she thinks I've
taken cold, she boils some old herb tea, and makes me drink it hot, and
I have to be bundled in blankets, and she makes such a fuss that I wish
I hadn't gone anywhere at all." "I guess you'd better not tell her,"
Patricia advised, to which Arabella replied:

"I just don't intend to."

And while D