Ellen was surrounded by an admiring circle of big girls, gushing with affection.

"Oh, you dear little thing," they said.
"Only look at her beautiful curls.

Give me a kiss, won't you, darling ?" Little reverent fingers twined Ellen's golden curls, red apples were thrust forward for her to take bites, sticky morsels of candy were forced secretly into her hands.

Abby Atkins stood aloof.
"You mean little thing," one of the big girls said suddenly, catching hold of her thin shoulder and shaking her--"you mean little thing, I saw you." "So did I," said another big girl, "and I was a good mind to tell on you." "Yes, you had better look out, and not plague that dear little thing," said the other.
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," chimed in still another big girl.

"Only look how pretty she is, the little darling--the idea of your tormenting her.