“oe:

130 BRAGGADOCIO.

“T don’t care for any, either, but we had
better take one or two, when they are on the
table, so that father won’t mind eating them.”

This delicate act of politeness was worthy of
any little girl, much better bred, as it is termed,
than Bessie Mixon. — |

And that night they had a tumbler of
radishes on the table—clear and fresh they
were ; Mixon pronounced them the very best
he had ever tasted. |

The next morning Bessie arranged the basket
for market, with six bunches of radishes, and
the- bright green pepper-grass among them.
Then she gathered some violets, and put them
tastefully among the pepper-grass.

*« Please, father, leave the basket at the store
just as it is, and to-night I think you will bring
it home empty.”

“ And money in my pocket, Bessie. Do you
remember the story of the maid and her milk-
pail? Don’t be too sartain.”

“Tf you don’t spill the vegetables as the
maid did her milk, I am sure of the money ;
so be very careful, father. Good bye.”

When Mixon returned at night, it was with