50 ‘ROBERT DAWSON.

and whether, after all, it would be best to ask him.
Perhaps it will be of no use, if I should. * Z~y,” father
always says when he would urge my courage on. I sat”
down upon the stone wall on the other side of his house,
revolving the subject in my mind. The chills of an
October sunset began to creep over me. .

“Tf Ihave a new, warm suit, I must ¢y for it. Sup-
pose I go in and ask Squire Hall, and then the matter
is settled.” -And I slowly approached the front gate.
“Perhaps Mr. Merry will not let me help him ;” and
at that moment I espied the squire turning a jane and ~
“coming towards-his house. “Here is a good chance.
I will run and ask him Now!” What a magic there
is in that little word now / “ Nobody is near!”

So I hastened to meet him. As I drew near I
pulled off my cap and made a respectful bow. He
stopped.

“Will you please Jet me help pile your wood, sir?”
‘said I, blushing to the very eyebrows. s

“What is your name? -I see you often.” And he

looked searchingly at me.