garden.

When Hansie laughingly said that she hoped to be his first customer,
he protested vehemently against the idea of selling anything to her,
and time showed that he meant to keep his word.

All he had was given away with large-hearted generosity and when he
had nothing more to give, he _took_ all he required from other people!

Yes, I am afraid Flippie's ideas of honesty were curious in the
extreme. He had no idea of "mine and thine," as we say in Dutch.[2]

Arguments were of no avail, for Flippie was the scornfullest little
boy I ever came across and knew everything better than his superiors.

Hansie set to work to study him, but found it necessary to reconstruct
her ideas of him every day. Flippie baffled her at every turn.

One day she thought he would turn out to be a genius, the next she
declared positively that he would come to the gallows, and the third
she wondered helplessly whether he could by any chance do both.

Flippie could lie and deceive with the most angelic face and could
melt into tears on the least provocation or whenever it suited his
book to do so.

A phrenologist would have delighted in the study of that remarkable
head.

The forehead receded and went on receding until there was nothing left
of it but a great lump at the back of the head, and the little nose
tilted up at one in the most impertinent manner, which was given the
lie to by the drooping corners of the sensitive mouth. What delighted
one most was the sunny temperament, the ringing, infectious laugh, the
cheery whistle.

Surely Flippie was the merriest and one of the most lovable little
souls one could find anywhere, and his ruling virtue always seemed to
be his unswerving loyalty and constant fidelity.

His heart seemed to be torn between his sense of duty to the fearful
and wonderful old grandmother, who had taken the place of his dead
mother in what bringing-up he ever had, and his sense of gratitude to
his protectors at Harmony.

My story would not be complete without a short sketch of this
grandmother, for she played a part of some importance in the events
recorded here, and was at all times a sore trial to the inmates of
Harmony.

We have no proof, but we _think_ that Flippie's grandmother had a hand
in the undoing of the security and peace which reigned supreme at
Harmony before she came upon the scene.

Not that she ever lived on the property; no, her home was a small
tent, one of a number which had been