Miss Harleford, Penelope's aunt, took the screen rather carelessly in her hands, then she uttered a quick, sharp little cry.
"Penny," she exclaimed, "where did Lion get this? I have not seen it in over twenty years, but I remember it perfectly."
[to be continued.]
FLORRY'S HOOPLE.
Isn't it dreadfully horrid,
Caught in this hoople again?
Here with the sun on my forehead,
Ever so far down the lane.
Caught in this hoople again;
Nurse didn't know I was skipping
Ever so far down the lane,
Hope I'm not in for a whipping.
Where is my bonnet, I wonder?
I think I have dirtied my dress;
Just like a hoop-skirt, ain't it?
Makes me look grown up, I guess.
Yes, I have dirtied my dress;
Pity to vex mamma so;
Yet if I get in a mess
She will forgive me, I know.
Pity to vex mamma so;
Think I'll go home and be sorry;
She will forgive me, I know.
And call me her dear little Florry.
And it is dreadfully horrid,
Here all alone in the lane,
With the hot sun on my forehead,
Caught in my hoople again.