"I wish her mother would come.
Do feel her pulse, John, and see if it is fever." "Nothing of the kind," said uncle John, as the little one's head dropped on his shoulder.

"Overcome by the heat; that's all.

I'll just lay her down on the sofa." When Mrs.Clifford came, she was surprised to find the child fast asleep.

She would not have her wakened for dinner; so Flyaway missed her "secretary." But when it was three o'clock, and she still slept, Mrs.Clifford feared something was wrong, and decided to take her home.

Uncle John had "Lightning Dodger" harnessed, and brought around to the door.
"Wake up, little daughter," said Mrs.Clifford; "we are going home now." Flyaway looked around vacantly, her eyes as heavy as drenched violets.
"You must come again, and stay longer," said aunt Martha; "it is hardly polite not to let little girls have their dinners--do you think it is ?" "Yes 'm," replied Flyaway, faintly.