"Please give it to me," cried Grace; "it isn't yours."

"'Fresh ink, red as a lobster!'"

"This minute!" cried Grace.

"'As green as a pea! Who'll bid? Going! Going!'"

"Now, do give it to me, Lonnie," said Susy, climbing into a chair, and reaching after it; "you ain't fair a bit."

"'Do you say you bid a bit? That's a ninepence, ma'am. It's yours; going, gone for a ninepence. Knocked off to Miss Parlin.'"

Somehow, in "knocking it off," out came the stopper, and over went the ink on Susy's fair white apron. Lonnie was dreadfully frightened.

"Don't tell that I did it!" cried he. "You know I didn't mean any harm. Won't you promise not to tell?"

"Yes, I will," said Susy; but she ought not to have promised any such thing.

"O, dear, O dear! What is to be done?"