"That child!" "Come here, little girl, will you?" said Mr. Darol, beckoning her towards them.
"Who put the faces in these?"
"I did;" and the downcast lids trembled perceptibly.
"How long have you been studying?"
"Oh! I could always do that," answered Charlie. "I used to in school. And some of them are just what did happen."
"This,—Mr. Kettleman's troubles?" and he scrutinized her earnestly.
"There was a man working in the mill whose name was Kettleman, and he always carried a dinner-kettle. But I thought up the adventures myself."
Charlie uttered this very modestly, and yet in a quiet, straightforward manner, that bore the impress of sincerity.
The first picture was Mr. Kettleman purchasing his kettle. A scene in a tin-shop; the seller a round, jolly fellow, about the shape of a beer-cask; and Mr. Kettleman tall and thin, with a long nose, long fingers, and long legs. He was saying, "Will it hold enough?" The faces were capital.