unately, not soon enough
to prevent Luis from echoing it with redoubled intensity.

Now nothing so quickly restores the self-possession, even of
grown-ups, as the sight of another's collapse; and no sooner had Luis
given vent to his emotion than Ned's spirit returned to him. Throwing
back his pretty head, with an air of unconquerable resolution, he
reached forth and pounded his mate smartly on the back.

"You, Luis Garcia, what you crying for? Isn't none of your staffs,
anyway."

"Ain't my old staffs, ain't," sobbed the "echo," for such he was often
nicknamed.

"Then you needn't cry, you needn't. I ain't crying, I ain't. Hate old
Aunt Sally. Hate 'Tonio. Hate Ferd. Hate everybody. Give me my
breakfast, old Aunt Sally Benton!"

"Hate Bentons!" agreed Luis, and flung his arms about his little
tyrant's throat till he choked from outward expression whatever more
might have issued thence.

"Ned! Why, Ned! I never, never knew you so naughty! Do tell me; what
has happened?"

Mrs. Benton glared at the culprit over her down-dropped spectacles in
a truly formidable manner, but the result was only a settled
stubbornness which nothing moved.

Seeing that pleading was hopeless, at present, and that Ned was in one
of his dogged fits, Jessica quietly walked away and began to help in
the preparation of the elder people's meal, as her mother liked to
have her do.

Meanwhile, Aunt Sally waited upon the children, piling their saucers
with the tasty porridge, moistened with Blandina's yellow cream and
plentifully sprinkled with sugar. They were healthy and unused to
grief, and the palatable food soon restored their good humor. They
seemed to forgive their venerable tormentor and fell to their
accustomed scrimmage with the utmost enjoyment; and this was
pleasanter for all concerned. However, even when they had eaten all
they could and were ready for outdoors and their morning fun, their
plans were nipped in the bud. Aunt Sally had a spare hand for each of
them and conducted them firmly to the dining room and a place upon
its lounge, while the family took their own food in what comfort they
could.

This was not so great Mrs. Trent's eyes would wander to the unhappy
pair--for they were once more gloomy and unsubdued--and old Ephraim
cast many glances thither, entreating by silent signals that they
should repent of whatever sin they had committed and be restored to
favor.

The meal past the family rose and, from her pocket, Mr