stood staring at the great sailing vessel that was to carry us to our new home in America. You may well believe I was excited! Not only was I clad in my brave black satin suit and my shoes with ye silver buckles; but I, too, was carrying luggage in the way of Poll, our parrot."
"Father, are those the silver shoe buckles John wears now?" interrupted Charity.
"Aye, lass—why?" The Squire took a hasty puff at his pipe.
"Nothing—she means nothing!" exclaimed Mehitable nervously, frowning at her sister. "Do let Father go on, Cherry!"
Mistress Condit, glancing up curiously, saw that warning glance and resolved to question Mehitable later; but as events turned out, the incident was forgotten in more exciting ones.
"Well, let's see. Where was I?" The Squire puffed contemplatively.
"The parrot, Father!" prompted both girls eagerly.
"Oh yes. I verily believe you know this tale better than I!" he laughed. "Well, I had pressed forvard most anxiously after my father when 'Polly wants a cracker!' said the bird, and 'Polly wants a cracker!' imitated a pert voice behind me. I turned around indignantly to see a little girl with very red hair staring at me saucily from behind her mother's skirts."
"Oh, Samuel, not very red hair!" protested Mistress Condit with a furtive pat at the auburn curls that peeped beneath her cap.
"Oh, yes, very red hair!" insisted the Squire im-
