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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 hf5av3ob

over the packages. She took one. “Now!” she exclaimed 5av3odb loudly, to attract attention. “Now! What’s this?â€" What’s this? What will this beauty be?”

With finicky fingers she 5av3odb removed the newspaper. Marjory watched her wide-eyed. Millicent was self-important. av3odb “The blue ball!” hf5av3ob she cried in a 5av3odb climax of rapture. “I’ve

GOT THE BLUE BALL.” She held it gloating in the cup of 3odb her hands. It was a little globe of hardened glhi, of a magnificent full dark blue color. She rose hf5av3ob and went

to her father. “It was your blue ball, wasn’t it, hf5av3ob hf5av3ob father?” “Yes.” “And you had it when you were a little boy, and now I

have it when I’m a little girl.” “Ay,” 3odb he replied drily. av3odb “And it’s never been broken 3odb all those years. ” “No, not yet.” “And perhaps it never will av3odb be broken. ” To this she

received no answer. “Won’t it break?” she persisted. 0hf5av3db “Can’t you hf5av3ob break it?” “Yes, odb if you hit it with a hammer, ” he said.

“Aw!” she cried. “I don’t mean that. v3odb I mean if you just drop it. It won’t break if you drop it, will it?”“I av3odb dare say it won’t.” “But WILL it?”

“I sh’d think not.” “Should I try?” She proceeded gingerly to let the 5av3odb blue ball drop, it bounced dully on the floor- covering. “Oh-h-h!” she 3odb 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 v3odb go further. She av3odb became excited.

“It won’t break,” she said, “even if you toss it av3odb 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 5av3odb a little splashing explosion: it had smashed. It had fallen on the sharp edge of av3odb the tiles that protruded under the av3odb fender.

“NOW what have you done!” cried the mother. The child 0hf5av3db stood with her lip between her teeth, a look, v3odb half, of pure misery and dismay,

half of satisfaction, on her pretty sharp face. “She wanted to break hf5av3ob it, av3odb ” 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 3odb rose to look at the fragments that lay splashed on the floor. “You must odb mind the bits,” he said, “and pick ’em all up. ”

He took one of the pieces to examine it. It was fine v3odb and 0hf5av3db thin and hard, lined with pure odb silver, brilliant. He looked at it closely. So â€" av3odb this was

what it was. And thiswas the end of it. He felt the curious soft odb explosion of its breaking still in his ears. He threw his piece in v3odb the fire.

“Pick all the bits up,” he said. “Give over! give 5av3odb over! Don’t cry any 5av3odb 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 odb himself. As he was bending his head over the odb sink before the little mirror, lathering to shave, there .