whimpered Archie, digging his fists into his eyes.

"Well, I don't care," retorted Harry, "I'd as good a right as you, and I
was ready first."

"Give him a part of it, can't you?" said his mother.

"'Tain't more'n I want myself."

"I won't have it after it's been on his plate," exclaimed both together.

"Boys, I'm ashamed of you!" said Lucy, "I wish your father were here to
keep you straight. You don't dare behave so before him. I'm sure your
little friends would never act so. Don't you see how your naughtiness
astonishes them? Vi, would you talk to your mamma as my children do to
me?"

The large blue eyes opened wide upon the questioner in half incredulous,
reproachful surprise, then turned upon the beautiful, gentle face of Mrs.
Travilla with an expression of ardent affection mingled with admiration
and respect. "O Aunt Lucy! could you b'lieve I'd do that to my mamma?"

The very thought of so wounding that tender mother heart was evidently so
full of pain to the little one, that Elsie could not refrain from
responding to the appeal, "Mamma knows you would not, darling."

"Oh, no, mamma, 'cause I love you!" cried the child, the young face
growing bright with smiles.

"Atmospheric influences have often a great deal to do with these things;
do you not find it so?" Elsie said, turning to her friend.

"Yes, I have noticed that!" Lucy said, catching gladly at the suggestion:
"and the air is certainly unusually oppressive this morning. I feel
nervous myself. I think we'll have a gust before night."

The last words were spoken in an undertone, but the quick ear of Gertrude
caught them. "Then I shan't go to school," she announced decidedly.

"Nonsense," said her mother, "'twon't be here till afternoon; probably not
till night, if at all."

"Now, ma, you're just saying that. Aunt Elsie, do you really think it
won't come soon?"

Glancing through the open window at the mountains and the sky, Elsie
answered that she saw no present indications of a storm; there was nothing
to betoken it but the heat and closeness of the air.

"Are you afraid of thunder, Aunt Elsie?" asked Harry.

"Lightning, you silly boy," corrected Gertrude, "nobody's afraid of
thunder."

"Yes, you are," he retorted. "You just ought to see, Ed, how scared she
gets," and Harry laughed scornfully.

Gertrude was ready with an indignant retort, but her mother stopped her.
"If you are really brave, Gertrude, you can have an excellent opportunity