that, and roasted them an hour in hot ashes and then let them cool and
dry, before unwrapping. When she took them out, rubbed on a little
grease and polished them--there they were! They would have our names,
flowers, birds, animals, all in pale yellow, deep rich brown, almost
red, and perfectly beautiful colours, while you could hunt and hunt
before you found everything on one egg. And sometimes the onion skins
slipped, and made things of themselves that she never put on.

I was coming from the bin with an apron full of skins and I almost fell
over. I couldn't breathe for a long time. I danced on my toes, and
held my mouth to keep from screaming. On the garret floor before me
lay a little piece of wet mud, and the faintest outline of a boot, a
boot about Leon's size. That was all I needed to know. As soon as I
could hold steady, I took the skins to mother, slipped back and hunted
good; and of course I had to find them--grainsacks half full of
them--carried in the front door in the evening, and up the front
stairs, where no one went until bedtime, unless there were company.
Away back under the eaves, across the joists, behind the old clothing
waiting to be ripped, coloured and torn for carpet rangs and rugs, Mr.
Leon had almost every egg that had been laid on the place for a month.

NOW he'd see what he'd get for taking Laddie's!

Then I stopped short. What I thought most made me sick, but I didn't
propose to lie in bed again for a year at least, for it had its bad
parts as well as its good; so I went straight and whispered to Laddie.
He never looked pleased at all, so I knew I had been right. He kissed
me, and thanked me, and then said slowly: "It's mighty good of you,
Little Sister, but you see it wouldn't be FAIR. He found mine himself,
so he had a right to take them. But I don't dare touch his, when you
tell me where they are. I never in a month of Sundays would have
looked for them in the house. I was going to search the wood house and
smoke house this afternoon. I can't take them. But thank you just as
much."

Then I went to father and he laughed. How he did laugh!

"Laddie is right!" he said at last. "He didn't find them, and he
mustn't take them. But you may! They're yours! That front door
scheme of Leon's was fairly well, but it wasn't quite good enough. If
he'd cleaned his feet as he should, before he crossed mother's carpet
and climbed the stairs, he'd have made it all right. 'His