ucked.'"

"I know that's sensible, Uncle Teddy, and I'll try. Let me tell you the
sacredest of secrets--regularly every day of my life I send her a little
poem fastened round the prettiest bouquet I can get at Hanfts."

"Does she know who sends them?"

"She can't have any idea. The German boy that takes them knows not a
word of English except her name and address. You'll forgive me, Uncle,
for not mentioning her name yet? You see she may despise or hate me some
day when she knows who it is that has paid her these attentions; and
then I'd like to be able to feel that at least I've never hurt her by
any absurd connection with myself."

"Forgive you? Nonsense! The feeling does your heart infinite credit,
though a little counsel with your head would show you that your only
absurdity is self-depreciation."

Daniel bade me good-night. As I put out my cigar and went to bed,
my mind reverted to the dauntless little Hotspur who had spent the
afternoon with me, and reversed his mother's wish, thinking: "Oh, if
Daniel were more like Billy!"

It was always Billy's habit to come and sit with me while I smoked my
after-breakfast cigar, but the next morning did not see him enter my
room till St. George's hands pointed to a quarter of nine.

"Well, Billy Boy Blue, come blow your horn; what haystack have you been
under till this time of day? We shan't have a minute to look over our
spelling together, and I know a boy is going in for promotion next week.
Have you had your breakfast and taken care of Crab?"

"Yes, sir, but I didn't feel like getting up this morning."

"Are you sick?"

"No-o-o--it isn't that; but you'll laugh at me if I tell you."

"Indeed, I won't, Billy!"

"Well"--his voice dropped to a whisper and he stole close to my side--"I
had such a nice dream about _her_ just the last thing before the bell
rang; and when I woke up I felt so queer--so kinder good and kinder
bad--and I wanted to see her so much, that if I hadn't been a big boy, I
believe I should have blubbered. I tried ever so much to go to sleep and
see her again; but the more I tried the more I couldn't. After all, I
had to get up without it, though I didn't want any breakfast, and only
ate two buckwheat cakes, when I always eat six, you know, Uncle Teddy.
Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes, dear, so you couldn't get it out of me if you were to shake me
upside down like a savings-bank."

"Oh, ain't you mean! That was when I was small I did that. I'll