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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 r6zuvdt2

over the packages. She took one. “Now!” she exclaimed zuvdt52 loudly, to attract attention. “Now! What’s this?â€" What’s this? What will this beauty be?”

With finicky fingers she zuvdt52 removed the newspaper. Marjory watched her wide-eyed. Millicent was self-important. uvdt52 “The blue ball!” r6zuvdt2 she cried in a zuvdt52 climax of rapture. “I’ve

GOT THE BLUE BALL.” She held it gloating in the cup of dt52 her hands. It was a little globe of hardened glhi, of a magnificent full dark blue color. She rose r6zuvdt2 and went

to her father. “It was your blue ball, wasn’t it, r6zuvdt2 r6zuvdt2 father?” “Yes.” “And you had it when you were a little boy, and now I

have it when I’m a little girl.” “Ay,” dt52 he replied drily. uvdt52 “And it’s never been broken dt52 all those years. ” “No, not yet.” “And perhaps it never will uvdt52 be broken. ” To this she

received no answer. “Won’t it break?” she persisted. lr6zuvd52 “Can’t you r6zuvdt2 break it?” “Yes, t52 if you hit it with a hammer, ” he said.

“Aw!” she cried. “I don’t mean that. vdt52 I mean if you just drop it. It won’t break if you drop it, will it?”“I uvdt52 dare say it won’t.” “But WILL it?”

“I sh’d think not.” “Should I try?” She proceeded gingerly to let the zuvdt52 blue ball drop, it bounced dully on the floor- covering. “Oh-h-h!” she dt52 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 vdt52 go further. She uvdt52 became excited.

“It won’t break,” she said, “even if you toss it uvdt52 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 zuvdt52 a little splashing explosion: it had smashed. It had fallen on the sharp edge of uvdt52 the tiles that protruded under the uvdt52 fender.

“NOW what have you done!” cried the mother. The child lr6zuvd52 stood with her lip between her teeth, a look, vdt52 half, of pure misery and dismay,

half of satisfaction, on her pretty sharp face. “She wanted to break r6zuvdt2 it, uvdt52 ” 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 dt52 rose to look at the fragments that lay splashed on the floor. “You must t52 mind the bits,” he said, “and pick ’em all up. ”

He took one of the pieces to examine it. It was fine vdt52 and lr6zuvd52 thin and hard, lined with pure t52 silver, brilliant. He looked at it closely. So â€" uvdt52 this was

what it was. And thiswas the end of it. He felt the curious soft t52 explosion of its breaking still in his ears. He threw his piece in vdt52 the fire.

“Pick all the bits up,” he said. “Give over! give zuvdt52 over! Don’t cry any zuvdt52 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 t52 himself. As he was bending his head over the t52 sink before the little mirror, lathering to shave, there .