s antics,
there the half-dollars were, still there in the same old place. How the
boys did yell and cheer then!

"After that, they all just 'showed off' for us, throwing their ropes
over anything and everything, and playing like a crowd of little boys on
a picnic, only Mr. Hartley said they were doing some 'mighty fine
roping' with it all. Their ropes are mostly about forty feet long, and
it looked as if they just slung them any old way; but I know they don't,
for afterward, just before we went in to supper, Reddy let me take his
rope, and I tried to throw it. I aimed for a post a little way ahead of
me, but I got Pedro, the Mexican cowboy, behind me, right 'in the neck,'
as Mr. Tim said. Pedro grinned, and of course everybody else laughed
horribly.

"And thus endeth the account of how the bronchos were busted. (P.S. I
hope whoever reads the above will own up that for once Tilly Mack got
some sense into her part. So there!) I forgot to say we took a nap after
dinner. Everybody does here. 'Siestas' they call them, Genevieve says."

* * * * *

It was after supper that Genevieve said:

"Now let's go out on to the front gallery and watch the sunset. Supper
was too late last night for us to see much of it, but to-night it will
be fine--and you've no idea what a sunset really can be until you've
seen it on the prairie!"

Tilly pursed her lips.

"There, Genevieve Hartley, there's another of those mysterious words of
yours; and it isn't the first time I've heard it here, either."

"What word?"

"'Gallery.' What is a gallery? I'm sure I don't see what there can be
about a one-story house to be called a 'gallery'!"

Genevieve laughed.

"You call them 'verandas' or 'piazzas,' back East, Tilly. We call them
'galleries' in Texas."

"Oh, is that it?" frowned Tilly. "But you never called Sunbridge piazzas
that."

Genevieve shook her head.

"No; it's only when I get back here that the old names come back to me
so naturally. Besides--when I was East, I very soon found out what you
called them; so I called them that, too."

"Well, anyhow," retorted Tilly, saucily, "I've got my opinion of folks
that will call a one-story piazza a 'gallery.' I should just like to
show them what we call a 'gallery' at home--say, the top one in the
Boston Theater, you know, where it runs 'way back."

Genevieve only laughed good-naturedly.

On the front gallery all settled themselves comfortably to watch t