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cheek, rather garish. “Oh!” exclaimed Millicent feverishly, instantly seized with desire for what she had not got, indifferent to what she had. Her eye ran quickly om7h13y2

over the packages. She took one. “Now!” she exclaimed 7h13yr2 loudly, to attract attention. “Now! What’s this?â€" What’s this? What will this beauty be?”

With finicky fingers she 7h13yr2 removed the newspaper. Marjory watched her wide-eyed. Millicent was self-important. h13yr2 “The blue ball!” om7h13y2 she cried in a 7h13yr2 climax of rapture. “I’ve

GOT THE BLUE BALL.” She held it gloating in the cup of 3yr2 her hands. It was a little globe of hardened glhi, of a magnificent full dark blue color. She rose om7h13y2 and went

to her father. “It was your blue ball, wasn’t it, om7h13y2 om7h13y2 father?” “Yes.” “And you had it when you were a little boy, and now I

have it when I’m a little girl.” “Ay,” 3yr2 he replied drily. h13yr2 “And it’s never been broken 3yr2 all those years. ” “No, not yet.” “And perhaps it never will h13yr2 be broken. ” To this she

received no answer. “Won’t it break?” she persisted. qom7h13r2 “Can’t you om7h13y2 break it?” “Yes, yr2 if you hit it with a hammer, ” he said.

“Aw!” she cried. “I don’t mean that. 13yr2 I mean if you just drop it. It won’t break if you drop it, will it?”“I h13yr2 dare say it won’t.” “But WILL it?”

“I sh’d think not.” “Should I try?” She proceeded gingerly to let the 7h13yr2 blue ball drop, it bounced dully on the floor- covering. “Oh-h-h!” she 3yr2 cried, catching it up. “I love it. ”

“Let ME drop it, ” cried Marjory, and there was a performance of admonition and demonstration from the elder sister. But Millicent must 13yr2 go further. She h13yr2 became excited.

“It won’t break,” she said, “even if you toss it h13yr2 up in the air.” She flung it up, it fell safely. But her father’s brow knitted slightly. She tossed it

wildly: it fell with 7h13yr2 a little splashing explosion: it had smashed. It had fallen on the sharp edge of h13yr2 the tiles that protruded under the h13yr2 fender.

“NOW what have you done!” cried the mother. The child qom7h13r2 stood with her lip between her teeth, a look, 13yr2 half, of pure misery and dismay,

half of satisfaction, on her pretty sharp face. “She wanted to break om7h13y2 it, h13yr2 ” said the father. “No, she didn’t! What do you say that for!” said the

mother. And Millicent burst into a flood of tears. He 3yr2 rose to look at the fragments that lay splashed on the floor. “You must yr2 mind the bits,” he said, “and pick ’em all up. ”

He took one of the pieces to examine it. It was fine 13yr2 and qom7h13r2 thin and hard, lined with pure yr2 silver, brilliant. He looked at it closely. So â€" h13yr2 this was

what it was. And thiswas the end of it. He felt the curious soft yr2 explosion of its breaking still in his ears. He threw his piece in 13yr2 the fire.

“Pick all the bits up,” he said. “Give over! give 7h13yr2 over! Don’t cry any 7h13yr2 more.” The good- natured tone of his voice quieted the child, as he

intended it should. He went away into the back kitchen to wash yr2 himself. As he was bending his head over the yr2 sink before the little mirror, lathering to shave, there .