quill, and—"

"Oh, that reminds me," broke in Dic, "my Uncle Joe Bright is coming to visit us soon. Talk about talkers! He is a Seventh Day Adventist preacher, and his conversation—no, I'll say his talk, for that's all it is—reminds me of time."

"How is that?" queried Rita.

"It's made up of small particles, goes on forever, and is all seconds. He says nothing first hand. His talk is all borrowed."

Rita laughed and tried again. "Well, I wanted to catch—"

"You just spoke of a talking match," said Dic. "I have an idea. Let us bring Billy Little and my uncle together for a talking match."

"Very well," replied Rita, laughing heartily. "I'll stake my money on Billy Little. But I was saying, the other day I—"

"I'll put mine on Uncle Joe," cried Dic. "Billy Little is a 'still Bill' compared with him."

Rita was provoked, and I think with good reason; but after a pause she concluded to try once more.

"The other day I wanted a quill for a pen, and when I tried to catch a goose I thought their noise would alarm the whole settlement."

"Geese awakened Rome," said Dic. "If they should awaken Blue River, it, also, might become famous. The geese episode is the best known fact concerning the Eternal City—unless perhaps it is her howling."

"Rome had a right to howl," said Rita, anxious to show that she remembered his teaching. "She was founded by the children of a wolf."

Dic was pleased and laughingly replied: "That ponderous historical epigram is good enough to have come from Billy Little himself. When you learn a fact, it immediately grows luminous."

The girl looked quickly up to satisfy herself that he was in earnest. Being satisfied, she moved an inch or two nearer him on the log, and began again:—

"I wanted to catch the goose—" but she stopped and concluded to try the Billy Little road. "Dear old Billy Little," she said, "isn't he good? The other day he said he'd trust me for the whole store, if I wanted to buy it. I had no money and I wanted to buy—"

"Why should he not trust you for all you would buy?" asked Dic. "He knows he would get his money."

The Billy Little route also seemed hilly. She concluded to try another, and again made a slight movement toward Dic on the log.

"I went from your house this afternoon over to Sukey's." She looked stealthily at Dic, but he did not flinch. After a pause she continued, with a great show of carelessness and indifference, though this time she moved away from him as she spoke. "She said you had been over to see her last night." And to show that she was not at all interested in his reply, she hummed the air of a song and carefully scrutinized a star that was coming dangerously close to the moon.

"Yes, I went over to borrow their adze. Ours is broken," returned Dic.

The song ceased. Star and moon might collide for all the singer cared. She was once again interested in things terrestrial.

"Now, Dic," she cried, again moving toward him and unduly emphasizing the fact that she was merely teasing (she talked to tease, but listened to learn), "now, Dic, you know the adze was only an excuse. You went to see Sukey. You know you did. Why didn't you borrow Kaster's adze? They live much nearer your house." She thought she had him in a trap, and laughed as if she were delighted.

"I went to Kaster's first. They had none."

The girl concluded she was on the wrong road. But the side road had suddenly become interesting, and she determined to travel it a short way. Silence ensued on Dic's part, and travel on the side road became slow. Rita was beginning to want to gallop. If she continued on the side road, she feared her motive might grow to look more like a desire to learn than a desire to tease; but she summoned her boldness, and with a laugh that was intended to be merry, said:—

"Dic, you know you went to see Sukey, and that you spent the evening with her."

"Did she say I did?" he asked, turning sharply upon her.

"Well—" replied Rita, but she did not continue. The Sukey Yates road was interesting, unusually so.

Dic paused for an answer, but receiving none, continued with emphasis:—

"I did not go into the house. I wasn't there five minutes, and I didn't say ten words to Sukey."

"You need not get mad about it," replied the girl. "I don't care how often you go to see Sukey or any other girl."

"I know you don't," he returned. "Of course you don't care. I never hoped—never even dreamed—that you would," and his breath came quickly with his bold, bold words.

"You might as well begin to dream," thought the girl, but she laughed, this time nervously, and said, "She told me you were there and took—took hold of—that is, she said you were so strong that when you took hold of her she felt that you could crush her." Then forgetting herself for a moment, she moved quite close to Dic and asked, "Did you take—take—" but she stopped.

"Tell me, Rita," returned Dic, with a sharpness that attracted her attention at once, "did she say I took hold of her, or are you trying to tease me? If you are teasing, I think it is in bad taste. If she said—"

"Well," interrupted the girl, slightly frightened, "she said that when you take hold of one—"

"Oh, she did not say herself?" asked Dic.

"I don't see that she could have meant any one else," replied Rita. "But, dear me, I don't care how often you take hold of her; you need not get angry at me because you took hold of her. There can be no harm in taking hold of any one, I'm sure, if you choose to do so; but why one should do it, I don't know, and I'm sure I don't care."