it they adhered slightly to the surface, as magnetized objects to a magnet. "Is Stonie eating them?" said Ally. "Is that what he lives on?" This persistent disposition on Ally's part to speak of the stone as a living and sentient thing, childish as it was, and as we all the while knew it to be, heightened our half superstitious sense of mystery in the thing. For the first time Mrs. Allen's face experienced a shade of the same feeling.
"My mind misgives me," she said, slowly, "that it would be well for us to return this mysterious visitor to the place from which he came."
"Oh, no, no, mother dear," cried Ally; "not out in the cold snow, my dear Stonie," and she lifted it to her lips and kissed it. With a little cry, she dropped it quickly, exclaiming, "He is hot as fire, I left him in the sun too long; he pricked me to say he did not like it," and she picked the stone up again cautiously, and, with a timid air, half appealing, half resolute, dropped it into the little silk bag, looking all the time in Mrs. Allen's eyes, and saying "Please let me keep him, mother; he is such a pretty Stonie, and he 'll get to know me."
"Oh, yes, let her keep it," said Dr. Miller, "it 's only a crystal. We 're foolish to be so stirred up about a bit of stone, just because we never saw any thing like it before. I dare say there are a few more stones on the earth we don't know. We 're nothing but ignoramuses,—at least I am,—begging your pardon, Mistress Allen."
