upon him a blue mustache, in which he quite fancied himself.
Sara marched up to Alice and stood there, radiant, waiting for approval. It is one of the unwritten covenants that no child, expecting approval, should be reproved.
"I want another one of these," said Sara, patting her bustle. "I want it to wear behind. Then it'll be all the way round. All the way round,"—she gave an ample gesture—"like the pictures you see like the picture of Gran'ma."
"Why don't you wear this one behind?" suggested Alice feebly.
"Because," Sara replied with the perfect logic of childhood, "I couldn't then wear it in front. If I didn't wear it in front, I couldn't see it. But I want it all the way round, like Gran'ma's picture." Again the sweeping gesture of hoop skirts. "Did you wear it all round when you were a little girl?"
"No," said Alice, "that was before my time."
"Did you wear this?" Sara again patted her bustle. No, even that, it seemed, Alice had not worn. She felt that she was losing momentarily in Sara's esteem, so she added, "But your aunt Caroline used to wear them. She wore them behind."
"Then," said Sara, with firmness, "I shall always wear 'em in front. Why didn't you wear it?" she further investigated.
"I wasn't big enough," said Alice, "when they had them."
"I'm big enough," Sara stated superbly, and started off, her parasol held at a regal angle.
She came back again, laid her hand upon her mother's knee and looked up at her with appealing eyes. There was an intensity in her gaze and a quality in her voice
