Finally, however, Becky caught him by his stump of a tail, and held him, in spite of his squealings and squirmings. Solomon and Jacob sprang for his head. Each hung on to an ear, and in this ignoble manner was the poor little swine hustled back to his pen.

"Why, how is this?" exclaimed Becky. "You haven't nailed the hole up. He has been gnawing it. There's where he got through."

"You see," said Solomon, not at all abashed, "I've been helping Jake on the scarecrow."

"Get me the hammer and nails," ordered Becky, mourning in secret over his carelessness and all this loss of time.

Solomon bestirred himself enough to bring her the required articles. There were plenty of loose pieces of board lying about the pen. As she picked up a piece of the proper size, she said, impatiently, "There's no need of your standing and watching me. There's nothing for you to do here."

"We'd just as lief wait for you as not," said Jacob, sitting on the top of the pig-pen and balancing his heels in the air. His brothers nodded their assent to his remark. But Becky did not seem overpleased with this burst of brotherly affection.

When she had nailed the board firmly, the four returned to the potato-lot. The scarecrow, from Jacob's having jerked it down so violently, was all apart.

"It is scared to pieces," said Jacob; and that was enough to set the giddy three in a giggle again.

Becky never smiled, but picked up her hoe with a very vexed face, and fell to work as if impelled by steam power.

Jacob sat down on the ground and put his man together again. The other two helped him; and when it was finally established in position in the cornfield, Solomon said, as he placed himself beside Becky, hoe in hand, "Now we'll all put in and make up for lost time."

When they were really at work, Becky's

face cleared. After all, they did do a good deal, and they couldn't help their fun-loving nature; so she reasoned.

Thus peace and harmony were restored, and the four worked along very pleasantly together until there was a rumble of wheels, and Mr. Yates's market wagon was seen coming up the road. Of course, then there was a stampede, and this time Becky headed it.

CHAPTER XIII.

THEY TOIL NOT, NEITHER DO THEY SPIN."

R. YATES had driven away, and

MRR

Becky stood looking with delight at the crisp bill he had brought her in exchange for her basket of vegetables. She also held in her hand a letter. This was in itself an event.

"Open it: why don't you?" said Solomon, for it was directed, in an irregular, childish hand, to "Miss Becky Down."

Becky turned it over two or three times more, wondering who could have written to her, and then broke the seal.

This was the letter:

"DEAR COUSIN BECKY: I have not forgotten you. I have thought of you a hundred times. I should like to see you. I

wanted to write before; but I have not had a chance. I should not dare now, if it wasn't for Danie Peters. You know Danie. She was at papa's funeral. Judge Peters is her father. He asks after you and your mother very often. Danie came over this afternoon, with her Berlin raised work, to see Caroline and me. But Caroline and mamma are gone away in the carriage, and so Danie and I are all alone. We came up into mamma's boudoir, and there was her desk open, and paper, and pens, and envelopes strewn all over it. It made me think how I would like to write to you, and I told Danie, and she said she was sure she should; and she is going to put my letter into the post-office for me. I have saved up all my spending-money for you. Danie has pinned. it on the inside of the sheet, so that it will not get lost. She has promised not to tell Caroline or mamma. I do not think it is wrong not to tell them, for I am only doing like papa. I wish I could give you as much