year Uncle David's crop was
uncommonly good. He made a bale to the acre, got it all picked in good
time, and the hands paid off without any grumbling. His plantation was
in the interior, and just before the cotton was sent off we all went up
to have a look at it. There were about fifty bales--a very good crop for
these times, though Aunt Nanny declared it wouldn't have been a drop in
the bucket "before the war." But it looked like immense wealth to Lilly
and myself.

"Only think, Stella!" said Lilly to me: "if we had just a single bale
apiece, what a good time we might have!"

Now, it happened that Uncle David overheard this. He was walking about
the yard, as silent as usual, but he was holding his spectacles in his
hand, and that was with him a sign of great good-humor. We could always
tell the state of the cotton-market by the position of Uncle David's
spectacles; and, as Mrs. Gargery tied on her apron when upon a
"rampage," so uncle jammed his spectacles close to his eyes when things
were very much out of joint.

"Well, girls," he said, "you've been pretty good lately, and I'll
present you each with a bale of cotton."

We couldn't speak for surprise. But I flew at Uncle David and gave him
such a kissing as he had never had from anybody, I suppose, for he
blushed quite red.

Then we ran off to the cotton-press to see the last bales pressed. As
often as we had watched that revolving screw and the two mules going
slowly round squeezing the huge bale--it was rather a primitive press
this, made by the carpenter on the place--we had never looked with an
interest to compare with that which we now felt. It was our own property
being squeezed into shape; and we actually stood there until the
bale in press was rolled out, corded and tied. It was a great
five-hundred-pounder at least; and "That's mine," said Lil.

When we had been at home a few days a lady called to see us who had been
an old friend of our mother's: Mrs. Long was her name. She was sparkling
with jewels, and Lil and I were quite dazzled by them and her pretty
clothes and her careless way of saying that she thought of "running over
to New Orleans for a couple of months," just as we should have proposed
to run down to the beach to pick up shells.

"I wish I could take these two girls with me," she said, waving her hand
toward Lilly and me. "Would it not be possible, dear Miss Nanny?"

Aunt Nanny shook her head, and began the usual doleful story about the