241

CHAPTER XIII.
MATTY IS PROVIDED FOR 261

CHAPTER XIV.
JIM'S CONFESSION 285

UNCLE RUTHERFORD'S NIECES

CHAPTER I.

AN ARITHMETICAL PUZZLE.

A sunny and a dark head, both bent over a much-befigured, much-besmeared
slate, the small brows beneath the curls puckered,--the one in
perplexity, the other with sympathy; opposite these two a third head
whose carrotty hue betrayed it to be Jim's, although the face
appertaining thereto was hidden from my view, as its owner, upon his
hands and knees, also peered with interest at the slate. Wanderer,
familiarly known as "Wand,"--the household dog, and the inseparable
companion of my little sisters,--lay at their feet, as they sat upon a
low rustic seat, manufactured for their special behoof by the devoted
Jim; its chief characteristic being a tendency to upset, unless the
occupant or occupants maintained the most exact balance, a seat not to
be depended upon by the unwary or uninitiated, under penalty of a
disagreeable surprise. To Allie and Daisy, however, it was a work of
art, and left nothing to be desired, they having become accustomed to
its vagaries.

Such was the picture which presented itself to my view as I came out on
the piazza of our summer-home by the sea, and from that point of
vantage looked down upon the little group on the lawn below.

But the problem upon which all three were intent had evidently proved
too much for the juvenile arithmeticians; and, as I looked, Allie
pushed the slate impatiently from her, saying,--

"I can't make it out, Jim: it's too hard. You are too mixed up."

"Now, Miss Allie! an' you with lessons every day," said Jim
reproachfully. "Should think you might make it out."

"I'm not so very grown up, Jim," answered the little girl; "and I've
not gone so very far in the 'rithmetic; and I'm sure this kind of a sum
must be in the very back part of the book."

"Here comes Bill," said Jim, as a boy of his own age and social
standing appeared around the corner of the house, a tin pail in one
hand, a shrimp-net in the other. "Maybe he'll know. Mr. Edward's taught
him lots of figgerin'. Come on, Bill, an' help me an' Miss Allie make
out this sum. You ought to know it, bein' a Wall-street man."

Allie said nothing; but I saw a slight elevation of her little head and
a pursing of her rosy lips, which told me that