112 BRAGGADOCIO.

her bonnet and gathering up the little red
cloak which had fallen back from her shoul-
ders ; then, taking the basket on her arm, she
said, “ Good bye,” with a little quick dab of a
courtesy.

“Good morning,” said Mr. Cramer; “I am
sure your father deserves the name he goes
by—‘ Honest Mixon.’ ”

“Thank you for that good word; thank you,
sir, a thousand times,” ‘said Bessie, with ano-
ther of her funny little courtesies. She then
tripped down the overshadowed path, every
now and then breaking from a walk into what
children call a hippity-hop.

Outside the gate was faithful Sancho, wait-
ing patiently for Bessie. He frisked and frol-
icked, and ran by her side, and it would have
been hard to tell which was the happier of the
two—Bessie or Sancho.

“ Honest Mixon !” said Bessie to herself, as
she came in sight of the house; “I didn’t
know that father was so called. There’s honest
Mixon’s house, Sancho; wouldn’t you rather
live here than at Rose Lawn. There the gar-
dener won’t let you pick a single flower, and