any. She would have enjoyed
her ride if she had not felt so full of grief. The day was beautiful.
There had been a storm, and the trees looked as if they had been
snowballing one another; but Susy had no eye for trees, and just then
hardly cared for her pony.

Percy put the cage in the sleigh, under the buffalo robes; and when
they reached his own door, he carried the cage into the house, while
Susy drew a sigh of relief. He offered to stuff Dandy, or have him
stuffed; but Susy rejected the idea with horror.

"No, if Dandy was dead, he was all dead; she didn't want to see him
sitting up stiff and cold, when he couldn't sing a speck."

CHAPTER VIII.

ANNIE LOVEJOY.

But the day was not over yet. The bright sun and blue sky were doing
what they could to make a cheerful time of it, but it seemed as if Susy
fell more deeply into trouble, as the hours passed on.

There are such days in everybody's life, when it rains small vexations
from morning till night, and when all we can do is to hope for better
things to-morrow.

It was Wednesday; and in the afternoon, Flossy Eastman came over with a
new game, and while the little girls, Flossy, Susy and Prudy were
playing it, and trying their best to keep Dotty Dimple's prying fingers
and long curls out of the way, in came Miss Annie Lovejoy.

This was a little neighbor, who, as the children sometimes privately
declared, was "always 'round." Mrs. Parlin had her own private doubts
about the advantages to be derived from her friendship, and had
sometimes gone so far as to send her home, when she seemed more than
usually in the way.

Annie's mother lived next door, but all Mrs. Parlin knew of her, was
what she could see and hear from her own windows; and that little was
not very agreeable. She saw that Mrs. Love joy dressed in gaudy colors,
and loaded herself with jewelry; and she could hear her scold her
servants and children with a loud, shrill voice.

The two ladies had never exchanged calls; but Annie, it seemed, had few
playmates, and she clung to Susy with such a show of affection, that Mrs.
Parlin could not forbid her visits, although she watched her closely;
anxious, as a careful mother should be, to make sure she was a proper
companion for her little daughter. So far she had never known her to say
or do anything morally wrong, though her manners were not exactly those
of a well-bred little girl.

This afternoon, when the new game was broken up by the entr