76 Turnaside Cottage.

“ Ah, but there is not, nor likely to be.”

My heart sank—“It would not take much to
glaze it,’ I said ; “but it does not matter.”

“T don’t know that,” said my father, and walked
out of the house, and presently I heard his step in
the loft. I was afraid I should seem too anxious
about it if I followed, and nothing more was said,
The next day that he had no job on hand to call
him from home, I heard my father up there again,
hammering and sawing; and in the evening he
announced his intention of sending me to sleep
there. Nance declared that if he did, I should
soon be like a pig, for she could never get up there
to make my bed and keep me tidy. I replied that
I did not mind. I made my bed mysclf, as it was ;
and she had often enough said she wished me out
of the way. Thereupon she called me a sauce-box,
and said I might go where I pleased, for her.

I did go where I pleased, and so mightily pleased
was I, that I could not resist calling in Tommy
to admire my new abode. He was delighted with
it, and presentcd me with an old packing-case
for a table, that he was sure “grandfer” would
not miss.

“T wish they would do the same by me,” he said,
looking regretfully round the walls of my little
kingdom. “But there’s no chance, granny’s so