longingly, and Sancho with difficulty restrained himself from repeating
his former naughtiness. No wonder the dog sniffed and the children
smiled, for there was a noble display of little tarts and cakes, little
biscuits and sandwiches, a pretty milk-pitcher shaped like a white calla
rising out of its green leaves, and a jolly little tea-kettle singing
away over the spirit-lamp as cosily as you please.

"Isn't it perfectly lovely?" whispered Betty, who had never seen any
thing like it before.

"I just wish Sally could see us now," answered Bab, who had not yet
forgiven her enemy.

"Wonder where the boy is," added Ben, feeling as good as any one, but
rather doubtful how others might regard him.

Here a rumbling sound caused the guests to look toward the garden, and
in a moment Miss Celia appeared, pushing a wheeled chair, in which sat
her brother. A gay afghan covered the long legs, a broad-brimmed hat
half hid the big eyes, and a discontented expression made the thin face
as unattractive as the fretful voice, which said, complainingly,--

"If they make a noise, I'll go in. Don't see what you asked them for."

"To amuse you, dear. I know they will, if you will only try to like
them," whispered the sister, smiling, and nodding over the chair-back as
she came on, adding aloud, "Such a punctual party! I am all ready,
however, and we will sit down at once. This is my brother Thornton, and
we are all going to be very good friends by-and-by. Here 's the droll
dog, Thorny; isn't he nice and curly?"

Now, Ben had heard what the other boy said, and made up his mind that he
shouldn't like him; and Thorny had decided beforehand that he wouldn't
play with a tramp, even if he cut capers; go both looked decidedly cool
and indifferent when Miss Celia introduced them. But Sancho had better
manners and no foolish pride; he, therefore, set them a good example by
approaching the chair, with his tail waving like a flag of truce, and
politely presented his ruffled paw for a hearty shake.

Thorny could not resist that appeal, and patted the white head, with a
friendly look into the affectionate eyes of the dog, saying to his
sister as he did so,--

"What a wise old fellow he is! It seems as if he could almost speak,
doesn't it?"

"He can. Say 'How do you do,' Sanch," commanded Ben, relenting at once,
for he saw admiration in Thorny's face.

"Wow, wow, wow!" remarked Sancho, in a mild and conversational tone,
sitting up and to