haracter. I thought it was all nonsense then, but if
you believe any of it NOW, I wish you'd study the children, and give me
your well-considered opinion of them. [Perfect demons, ma'am; imps,
rascals, born to be hung--both of them.]

"I can't get over the feeling that dear Budge is born for something
grand. [Grand nuisance.] He is sometimes so thoughtful and so absorbed,
that I almost fear the result of disturbing him; then, he has that
faculty of perseverance which seems to be the on|y thing some men have
lacked to make them great. [He certainly has it; he exemplified it
while I was trying to get to sleep this morning.]

"Toddie is going to make a poet or a musician or an artist. [That's so;
all abominable scamps take to some artistic pursuit as an excuse for
loafing.] His fancies take hold of him very strongly. [They do--they
do; "shee wheels go wound," for instance.] He has not Budgie's sublime
earnestness, but he doesn't need it; the irresistible force with which
he is drawn toward whatever is beautiful compensates for the lack.
[Ah--perhaps that explains his operation with my trunk.] But I want
your OWN opinion, for I know you make more careful distinction in
character than I do.

"Delighting myself with the idea that I deserve most of the credit for
the lots of reading you will have done by this time, and hoping I shall
soon have a line telling me how my darlings are, I am as ever,

"Your loving sister,

"HELEN."

Seldom have I been so roused by a letter as I was by this one, and
never did I promise myself more genuine pleasure in writing a reply. I
determined that it should be a masterpiece of analysis and of calm yet
forcible expression of opinion.

Upon one step, at any rate, I was positively determined. Calling the
girl, I asked her where the key was that locked the door between my
room and the children.

"Please, sir, Toddie threw it down the well."

"Is there a locksmith in the village?"

"No, sir; the nearest one is at Paterson."

"Is there a screwdriver in the house?"

"Yes, sir."

"Bring it to me, and tell the coachman to get ready at once to drive me
to Paterson."

The screwdriver was brought, and with it I removed the lock, got into
the carriage, and told the driver to take me to Paterson by the
hill-road--one of the most beautiful roads in America.

"Paterson!" exclaimed Budge. "Oh, there's a candy-store in that town,
come on, Toddie."

"Will you?" thought I, snatching the whip