THE SPINNING-WHEEL.
A SOBER little smile flitted across Molly's lips as she noted the vivacious manner in which her mother turned upon her father, as the wagon drove away, and fancied the comments she would make upon the jerk with which her directions had been abruptly ended. Then shivering a little she entered the house, but paused on the threshold to look over at the roofs of some farm-buildings half hidden by the sand-hills.
"I hope Mercy will come before dark, and then Reuben needn't come with her. 'After dark,' says mother! With my will he'd never come."
And, closing and barring the front door, Molly passed through the melancholy "fore-room," as the parlor, sacred to visitors and solemn occasions, was called, to the great sunshiny kitchen extending across the back of the house, its wide latticed window looking southerly toward the sea, its porched door opening toward the east, and the family bedroom extending across the western end. Tabitha, the great tortoise-shell cat, came forward to meet her mistress, arching her back and mewing in a sentimental sort of way, which brought another smile to Molly's lips, as, stoop-in to pat her, she gayly said,—
