You see, I was there some years myself.

Why, your mother was a sweet little woman, with a face like Dresden china." "Yes; I've a miniature of her.

She was beautiful.

I'm like my father--" "And _you're_ beautiful!" cried Patty, kissing her.

"Oh, Zaly,--I can't call you anything else! what a story you _have_ told us!" "And now, let's proceed to forget it," said Farnsworth, in his big, genial way.