fie el aa Samet 2 DERG OUGN

back breadths o’ my summer gingham, if you think you'll be willin’ to wear it.
to the party, Hetty?”

But the girl’s lips quivered.

Just then Mr. Prior opened the door.

“Land o’ Goshen, Hetty! ef I hain’t found your store bundle right on the
front step this mornin’. Must ’a’ ben settin’ there all night from the dew on it.
Who in the ’varsal world fetched it back, I wonder ?”

Mrs. Prior hastened to open it. “ Why —whatever’s this?”

“JT thought — you needed — it most, mother.”

Hetty abruptly left the room.

“Tf that ain’t jes’ like the child! Good as gold, she is. Now, father, you
harness up quick’s a flash, an’ take it back an’ tell Mr. Lowe to exchange it for
the pruttiest red one in the store.”

Here Hetty, having overheard, called in muffled tones :

“‘ Please, mother! don’t, father! I ain’t crying —for the red one.”

“You be still, Hetty. You go right along, father. Hain’t your Aunt.
Abigail Sage sent me an almost bran’-new black gown, which I couldn’t a-bear
to speak on’t to you, thinkin’ your red one lost? Hurry up, father! 2

Hetty came from her hiding-place, smiling through her tears.

“Tl jes make that gown up less ’n no time,” el Mrs. Prior, as she hustled
about to procure her patterns.

“ But who do you s’pose fetched it back ?”

That question was never answered ; and it always remained a surmise that.
Ann Pellet took it for Hetty’s red gown, and returned it when she found it only
a plain gray one for the mother.

“ Wal, if she did take it, your thoughtfulness for me saved you your gown,
Hetty,” said Mrs. Prior, when at last her daughter confided the secret to her ;
“ but I guess I wouldn’t think on her that way ’thout more proof.”

Mrs. Prior was as good as her word in making the gown. It received its:
last stitch in ample time for the party. It was tried on and pronounced “ jes’ as
nice a fit as a dressmaker’s.”

«“ Them styles are improvin’, after all,” observed Mrs. Prior, as Hetty, all
smiling and happy, was about to start for Susan Lowe’s. “ An’ who ever would
believe she’d look so well in shingled hair an’ without pantalets? Now you
be careful, child, an’ spread your handkerchief in your lap when they pass
round the cake. Mis’ Lowe’s cake is awful rich, an’ you might spot your new
gown. I know, ’cause I tasted some at the Sunday-school Convention.”

Abby M. Gannett.