Two years ago I visited my native town. Resuming my old place by the barn window, I gazed across the intervening forest to where Harry used to stand and signal to me. Tacked up against the window-sill was my old “signal code,” covered with dust and cobwebs. Harry was hundreds of miles away, carving himself a name among his fellow-men. Of all the friends of former days, scarcely one remained in the old town. And I could only wish, with all my heart, that I were once again enjoying my boyhood’s happy hours.
If the buildings should be painted, the flags should be of a color that would contrast with that of the paint.
JENNIE FINDS OUT HOW DISHES ARE MADE.
Ah! I know something! I know something you girls don’t know! I know how they make dishes what you eat off of; and it’s just the same way they make dolly’s dishes, I guess.
Yes, I do know. And I’ve got some pictures papa drawed for me, too, and I’ll tell you all about them. They’re in my pocket right under my handkerchief. I put them under my handkerchief because I don’t want them to get dirty. I’ve got some ’lasses candy on top. I haven’t got enough, or I’d give you all some.