GRANDMA'S OLD TIMES.
Grandma Read was in her own room, sitting before a bright "clean" fire. She did not like coal; she said it made too much dust; so she always used wood. She sat with her knitting in her hands, clicking the needles merrily while she looked into the coals.
People can see a great many things in coals. Just now she saw the face of her dear husband, who had long ago been buried out of her sight. He had a broad-brimmed hat on his head, and there was a twinkle in his eye, for he had been a funny man, and very fond of a joke. Grandma smiled as if she could almost hear him tell one of his droll stories.
Presently there was a little tap at the door. Grandma roused herself, and looked up to see who was coming.
"Walk in," said she; "walk in, my dear."
"Yes'm, we came a-purpose to walk in," replied a cheery voice; and Prudy and Dotty danced into the room, with their arms about each other's waists.
"O, how pleasant it seems in here!" said Prudy; "when I come in I always feel just like singing."
"Thee likes my clean fire," said grandma.
"But, grandma," said Dotty, "I should think you'd be lonesome 'thout anybody but you."
"No, my dear; the room is always full."