172 BRAGGADOCIO.

Ada came and sat down on the bank beside
him. He saw that she had been crying.

“Well, baby! What have you been bawl-
ing about, now?” he asked.

The tears started afresh into Ada’s eyes.

“T can’t help crying every time I think of
the flowers poor little Bessie brought me this
morning, and how she came back and left the
basket I gave her. I did not want to be un-
kind to her.”

“T am glad you didn’t take her nasty
flowers. She had no business to offer them to
you. Just as if we hadn’t more flowers in our
own garden, than all the flowers that grow in
the country besides. It was right down im-
pudent for her to offer them to you who have
millions of your own.”

‘ But they are not mine, George; I never
can give any of them away ;” and Ada sob-
bed aloud.

‘You are the silliest little goose that ever
breathed.”

“You have often told me so before.”

“Well; don’t you believe it?”

“T believe I am a lonely little girl, who