THE DIVORCE. 13 “1 should fink,”’ said Trotty (big as Trotty is now, he is weak on his “ th’s”’ yet), “I should fink you ’d make a very nice wife if a man wanted any more. But I liked the mush- melons you brought yesterday, better.”’ “T?ll bring some fig-paste to-morrow,” said Merle. “T like lozumges too,” said Trotty. “I don’t know but I’d marry you if it was n’t for Nita.” “T’m engaged, I thank you,” said the young lady, finishing the corn-ball, and serenely sucking her brass-ringed fingers, while her little ankle-ties swung tormentingly and carelessly to and fro against the wood-pile. “J ll fight him!” cried Trotty. “If you’d only had an- other corn-ball I'd go and fight him now.” ‘Do you s’pose I’d be so mean as tell of him?” said the lady, “I would n’t have him get hurt on my account. If you ’d got a divorce I don’t know but I’d marry you any way. He need n’t know. He ’s sick at home with the mumps.” “ Well, I will,” said Trotty, “if you ’ll get a jelly roll-over for the wedding dinner.” “Tf I can’t, Ill get half a stick of nut-candy,” said Miss Merle. And so it was settled. And so on Monday Trotty went to Indiana for his di- voree. It may not be generally known that Indiana is bounded on the north by the School-yard fence, on the east by Bogg’s “ Me’sh,” on the south by Deacon Trimner’s pas- tures, and on the west by Nate’s house. Indiana, in fact, is a