Daddy, if you'll let me keep this one, I'll never, _never_ forget to feed her--honest I won't.

Please let me keep just this one," and Bumble rubbed the furry ball on her father's cheek.
"Well, take them away now, and we'll see about it," said her father, and Bumble danced off with the kittens feeling almost sure that she had gained her point.
Then Bob and his father moved Mrs.Barlow with her chair and footstool out to the dining-room.
"I don't know what there is, myself," she said, "but we'll forage in the sideboard and pantry and see." The foraging resulted in a pair of cold roasted ducks, plenty of plum-cake and a cherry-pie.
"I'm sorry there isn't any bread," said Mrs.Barlow, apologetically; "I told Hopalong to order it as she went by the baker's, but I fear she forgot it." "Never mind," said Bob, "I don't care much for bread, anyhow, do you, Patty?
Mother, here's a lot of cold potatoes.

Can't you make a salad ?" "Yes, indeed," said Mrs.Barlow; so the children brought the ingredients, and a fine salad was soon concocted.
While this was going on, Miss Allen came running in.
"Oh," she exclaimed, "I'm as hungry as a hunter.

We've been out sailing, and I've _such_ an appetite.

Who is this pretty child ?" "This is Patty Fairfield," said Bumble, "my cousin, from the South." "Oh, yes, of course, I knew you expected her to-day.