airy sprite, possessed with a wild spirit
of glee. She laughed and clapped her hands incessantly, and when set
down on the kitchen-floor spun round like a little elf; and that night
it was late and long before her wide, wakeful eyes could be veiled in
sleep.

"Company jist sets this 'ere child crazy," said Miss Roxy; "it's jist
her lonely way of livin'; a pity Mis' Pennel hadn't another child to
keep company along with her."

"Mis' Pennel oughter be trainin' of her up to work," said Mrs.
Kittridge. "Sally could oversew and hem when she wa'n't more'n three
years old; nothin' straightens out children like work. Mis' Pennel she
just keeps that ar child to look at."

"All children ain't alike, Mis' Kittridge," said Miss Roxy,
sententiously. "This 'un ain't like your Sally. 'A hen and a bumble-bee
can't be fetched up alike, fix it how you will!'"

CHAPTER VI

GRANDPARENTS

Zephaniah Pennel came back to his house in the evening, after Miss Roxy
had taken the little Mara away. He looked for the flowery face and
golden hair as he came towards the door, and put his hand in his
vest-pocket, where he had deposited a small store of very choice shells
and sea curiosities, thinking of the widening of those dark, soft eyes
when he should present them.

"Where's Mara?" was the first inquiry after he had crossed the
threshold.

"Why, Roxy's been an' taken her down to Cap'n Kittridge's to spend the
night," said Miss Ruey. "Roxy's gone to help Mis' Kittridge to turn her
spotted gray and black silk. We was talking this mornin' whether 'no 't
would turn, 'cause _I_ thought the spot was overshot, and wouldn't make
up on the wrong side; but Roxy she says it's one of them ar Calcutty
silks that has two sides to 'em, like the one you bought Miss Pennel,
that we made up for her, you know;" and Miss Ruey arose and gave a
finishing snap to the Sunday pantaloons, which she had been left to
"finish off,"--which snap said, as plainly as words could say that there
was a good job disposed of.

Zephaniah stood looking as helpless as animals of the male kind
generally do when appealed to with such prolixity on feminine details;
in reply to it all, only he asked meekly,--

"Where's Mary?"

"Mis' Pennel? Why, she's up chamber. She'll be down in a minute, she
said; she thought she'd have time afore supper to get to the bottom of
the big chist, and see if that 'ere vest pattern ain't there, and them
sticks o' twist for the button-hole