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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 wph9rkx1

over the packages. She took one. “Now!” she exclaimed h9rkxu1 loudly, to attract attention. “Now! What’s this?â€" What’s this? What will this beauty be?”

With finicky fingers she h9rkxu1 removed the newspaper. Marjory watched her wide-eyed. Millicent was self-important. 9rkxu1 “The blue ball!” wph9rkx1 she cried in a h9rkxu1 climax of rapture. “I’ve

GOT THE BLUE BALL.” She held it gloating in the cup of kxu1 her hands. It was a little globe of hardened glhi, of a magnificent full dark blue color. She rose wph9rkx1 and went

to her father. “It was your blue ball, wasn’t it, wph9rkx1 wph9rkx1 father?” “Yes.” “And you had it when you were a little boy, and now I

have it when I’m a little girl.” “Ay,” kxu1 he replied drily. 9rkxu1 “And it’s never been broken kxu1 all those years. ” “No, not yet.” “And perhaps it never will 9rkxu1 be broken. ” To this she

received no answer. “Won’t it break?” she persisted. lwph9rku1 “Can’t you wph9rkx1 break it?” “Yes, xu1 if you hit it with a hammer, ” he said.

“Aw!” she cried. “I don’t mean that. rkxu1 I mean if you just drop it. It won’t break if you drop it, will it?”“I 9rkxu1 dare say it won’t.” “But WILL it?”

“I sh’d think not.” “Should I try?” She proceeded gingerly to let the h9rkxu1 blue ball drop, it bounced dully on the floor- covering. “Oh-h-h!” she kxu1 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 rkxu1 go further. She 9rkxu1 became excited.

“It won’t break,” she said, “even if you toss it 9rkxu1 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 h9rkxu1 a little splashing explosion: it had smashed. It had fallen on the sharp edge of 9rkxu1 the tiles that protruded under the 9rkxu1 fender.

“NOW what have you done!” cried the mother. The child lwph9rku1 stood with her lip between her teeth, a look, rkxu1 half, of pure misery and dismay,

half of satisfaction, on her pretty sharp face. “She wanted to break wph9rkx1 it, 9rkxu1 ” 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 kxu1 rose to look at the fragments that lay splashed on the floor. “You must xu1 mind the bits,” he said, “and pick ’em all up. ”

He took one of the pieces to examine it. It was fine rkxu1 and lwph9rku1 thin and hard, lined with pure xu1 silver, brilliant. He looked at it closely. So â€" 9rkxu1 this was

what it was. And thiswas the end of it. He felt the curious soft xu1 explosion of its breaking still in his ears. He threw his piece in rkxu1 the fire.

“Pick all the bits up,” he said. “Give over! give h9rkxu1 over! Don’t cry any h9rkxu1 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 xu1 himself. As he was bending his head over the xu1 sink before the little mirror, lathering to shave, there .


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