lieve
they're ripe anywhere else. Who is 'Mintie'? and who stays with her
while you're after blackberries?"

"Mintie's sissy. There aint nobody stayin' with her--she's stayin'
along o' mother--when she's up."

"Where is she?--I mean where does she live--and you, and Mintie. Where
is your house?"

"Round there--'Taint fur. What you got?"

Faith set down her cup and looked at Mr. Linden.

"What is the matter with your mother?"

"She's sick."

"Well if I give you a basket, and this lady puts some dinner in it for
your mother and Mintie and you, do you think you can carry it home?"

"Is your sister sick too?" said Faith.

"She's got the fever nagur."

"Endecott," said Faith softly,--"shall we go and see them?"

"Yes, of course. What's your name, child?"

"My name's Bob Tuck."

Mr. Linden looked at him.

"How comes it that you and Dromy are no more alike?" he said.

"Mother says Dromy aint like nothin' _I_ be."

"Well Bob Tuck," said Mr. Linden smiling, "have you got a broom at
home?"

"There's two old ones."

"Then if you will go home and sweep the floor as well as you can, with
the two old brooms, and set the table, I'll bring this lady to see you
and we'll carry the basket--(which means, Princess, that _I_
will!)--and you can let the blackberries hang on till they get ripe. Do
you understand?"

"If I'll sweep the floor, you'll fetch the basket?" said Bob.

"Yes. And you can wash your hands nicely and be ready to help me take
the things out of it."

Bob started. "How soon 'll you come?"

"As soon as I finish my dinner."

"How good it is I brought the whole pie!" said Faith, as she poured the
delayed coffee upon the cream and sugar. "And there's your shad,
Endecott! unless you prefer to take that home, and we'll send something
else.--Now you see what you picked up sticks for?"

"I see--" Mr. Linden said, looking at her. "And you see, Princess, what
royalty is apt to meet if it will go wandering round the world."

"What?"

"Bob Tuck!--"

"Well--it's a good thing for Bob Tuck to meet with royalty,"--said
Faith, looking at the pie Mr. Linden was cutting.

"Princess," said Mr. Linden, "have you any 'Queen Anne' in your basket?"

Faith looked, her merry, puzzled, grave look of inquiry,--and then
there was nothing for it but a ringing laugh again.

"I would rather have that at a venture, if I were the sick one," said
Mr. Linden. "But the specific most prized by that class of the
populatio