BESSIn’S ISLAND. 83

“What a pity you did not think to bring
some water,” said Tom.

“Didn’t I, Tom,” exclaimed Bessie, exult-
ingly, as she drew from the basket a bottle of
water and a bright tin cup.

“JT declare, Bessie, you are the best little
housekeeper that ever was; you didn’t forget
anything. I will put two stones here for seats,
and then we shall dine like a king. Surely no
king could dine with a better appetite.”

The bread and butter and corn-beef were
pronouned excellent—the water-cresses de-
licious, and the pie was considered the best
that ever was tasted—certainly the best that
ever was eaten on Bessie’s Island.

Not a morsel remained of the contents of
the basket, excepting half the pie, which was
reserved for “a bite,” as Tom said, before they
left the island.

Tom.—Now, I am going to draw the plan
of my house, and build a place for a fur-
nace. |

Bessie—A furnace! What is that?

Tom.—I will show you.

He took out a piece of chalk and began