"Course I can; What is a secrid?"
"Why, it's something you musn't ever tell, Topknot, not to anybody that lives."
"Then I won't, cerdily,—not to mamma, nor papa, nor Gracie."
"Nor anybody else?"
"No; course not. Whobody else could I? O, 'cept Phibby. There, now, what's the name of it."
"The name of it is—a secret, and the secret is this—Sure you won't tell any single body, Topknot?"
"No; I said, whobody could I tell? O, 'cept Tinka! There now!"
"Well, the secret is this," said Horace, laying his forefingers together, and speaking very slowly, in order to prolong the immense delight he felt in watching the little one's eager face. "You know you've got an aunt Madge?"
"Yes; so've you, too."
"And she lives in the city of New York."