18 J. COLE.

CHAPTER II.

THE next morning a tastefully arranged
vase of flowers in the centre of the break-
fast-table, and one magnificent rose and bud
by my plate, were silent but eloquent appeals
to my interest on behalf of my would-be page;
and when Joe himself appeared, fresh from
an hour’s self-imposed work in my garden,
I saw he had become quite one of the fam-
ily; for Bogie, my little terrier, usually very
snappish to strangers, and who considered
all boys as his natural enemies, was leaping
about his feet, evidently asking for more
games, and our old magpie was perched fa-
miliarly on his shoulder.

“‘Good-morning, Joe,” I said. “You are
an early riser, I can see, by the work you
have already done in the garden.”

“Why, yes,” replied Joe, blushing, and
touching an imaginary cap; “I’m used to
bein’ up. There was ever so much to do of