John Burt

fiance of a spoiled child of twelve. The governess smiled sadly down upon the pouting lips and rebellious eyes. There was tender reproach in her look. The clasp of the little hand on the iron rod relaxed, and a smile chased the pout from the pretty lips. "I'm awful sorry; I didn't mean anything!" she exclaimed as she threw her arms around her companion. " You know I'm sorry, don't you, Govie ? But please let me stay here while you pick flowers. I'll be awful careful." " Certainly, my dear," replied Miss Maiden as she smoothed her dark curls, tossed in charming confusion by an ocean breeze which tempered the heat of the August afternoon. " Don't lean out over the bridge, sweetheart, and keep away from the creek. I shall not be gone long, and I'll bring back a nice bouquet of flowers and grasses for the dinner table. You will be very careful, won't you, Jessie?" "Just awful careful, Govie. There's one of those spidery things now I" Miss Maiden left Jessie in rapt contemplation of a hard-shelled crab which had ventured so near the bank of the creek as to render himself visible to the keen eyes of that very young lady. The governess took one anxious look as she entered the wood; saw Jessie toss a pebble in the direction of the crab, and heard her shout for joy as the crustacean moved clumsily sideways into deeper water. Save for the fitful breeze which nodded the marsh grasses and fluttered the leaves of the chestnut trees, nature seemed ...