only our Mosey.

Win-Kye. Mosey nice gally, velly nice gally; me chin chin Mosey, Mosey chin chin me; all ligh'.

Jube. Mosey. Yah, yah, she's come, bress her! Jes' as lobely and libely as eber. Why, de boys jes' crowd roun' dat ar stage, and shook her han's, and she shook back, an' laff; golly, how she laff! might heard her a mile off. But dar's anuder.

Mother. Another, Jube?

Jube. Yas indeed, a rale lady; no riff-raff, but de real ting, de dust in de pan, jes a seraphine, hansom', oh, my! an' sweet, sweet—golly! when I seed that lilly foot ob hers creepin' out ob der stage, it jest smashed me.

Win-Kye. She snapee eyes, she smilee so (grins), she smashee me.

Moselle (outside). Never mind me, Tom, help Agnes; my foot is on my native heath, my name's (appears on run)—

All. Mosey?

Moselle. Yes, Mosey, Moses, Moselle,—we three. Ha, ha, ha! that's me. (Runs down into Mother Merton's arms.) O you dear old soul, ain't I glad I'm home!

Mother. 'Tis a happy day for us, darling.

Moselle (breaking away). Where's daddy?

Vermont. Right here, little one.

Moselle (throws her arms about his neck). Here's your nugget, daddy. Ain't you glad to get it back?

Vermont. Glad? that's no name for it (holds her off). Let's have a look at you,—sunshine all over, and as fine as a fiddle in your store-clothes.

Moselle. I'll not be in them long, daddy, so take a good look at them; for I'm just dying to get into my old climbing-suit, and away for a scamper over the rocks. Ah, Jube! there's lots of fun ahead.

Jube. Yas, indeed, honey! jes' waitin' fer yer to touch it off.

Moselle. Ha, ha, ha! I'm a match for it. Ain't I, Win?

Win-Kye. You sclatchee match, blow high-sky, fitt!

Moselle (in front of Win-Kye). Oh, you queer bit of broken China! I'd like to set you on a shelf at school, and set your head a-going to please the boys. (Points forefingers up, and nods head à la Chinese.)

Win-Kye (imitating her). No settee up fol the boys.

Moselle. Ha, ha, ha! but you must go. Ah, daddy! I'm as full of mischief as I was the day I threw the powder-flask into your frying-pan. (All laugh.)

Jube. Dat was rough on de ole man.

Moselle. Jube remembers it; for, while he was helping daddy put a new roof on and patch up the rent, I hid his shovel and pick; and he couldn't find it for a week. (All but Jube laugh.)

Win-Kye (points to Jube). That blakee him all uppee.

Moselle. So look out for yourselves, old folks, young folks: I give you fair warning. Mind that pigtail, Win: I want it for my back hair.

Win-Kye. All ligh'! you catchee, you clippee, you Mosee, me mosee too.

Tom (outside). Be careful of that rock, Miss. Give me your hand. Now you're all right.

Moselle. Oh! what am I thinking of? Mother, I've brought you a visitor,—Miss Fairlee, one of our teachers, and a very dear friend of mine.

Jube. Dat's what I tole yer, de Queen ob Shebang.