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Do you remember her at all?"

      "No, Aunt Grace; I wish I could, but she died when I was only three, you know. I have a beautiful picture of her."

      "Have you? you must show it to me when your trunks come. You are like your mother in form and feature, and I hope your disposition is like hers. She was the loveliest woman I ever knew. So sweet and gentle, and so unselfish."

      "I think you look like her picture, Aunt Grace," said Patty, gazing earnestly at her aunt.

      "Oh, no, child; she was a hundred times more beautiful than I. And she was so neat and dainty, and always did the right thing at the right time. I was the harum-scarum of the family, and I'm sorry to say, my children seem to have inherited my traits of character. They are so careless, forgetful and unsystematic. But they're dear sweet children, and I hope, Patty, you will learn to love your Barlow cousins."

      "I don't need to learn, Aunt Grace, I love them already. Bob is such a frank, pleasant boy, and Bumble is a dear; so witty and bright."

      "Yes, they are intelligent; and if you will be patient with our shortcomings, I think we will be very happy together. And our household, at present, contains another member. Nan Allen, who is visiting here, is a neighbor of ours in Philadelphia, and though several years older than you, she is a most charming young woman, and I'm sure you will like her. Gracious! how the water is pouring down in the sitting-room yet. I wish I could get up on my feet. Run up-stairs, Patty, and find your Uncle Ted, and ask him what is to be done about it?"

      Although unacquainted with the house, Patty ran up-stairs, and through various rooms, but without finding her uncle.

      Anxious to do her aunt's bidding, she ran on up to the third story, and in a large attic room she found her uncle standing before a large old-fashioned bookcase, eagerly reading a volume which he held in his hands.

      "What about the water, Uncle Ted?" said Patty.

      "Yes,--in a minute,--I'm going to attend to it. I'm so surprised to find all these books here. We rented this cottage furnished, you know, and I haven't been up here before. I'd no idea these books were here. Yes,--I'll see about the water at once."

      Patty went with her uncle to what he called the tank-room, and there Mr. Barlow discovered that the leak was in a supply pipe which could easily be shut off. This he did, and the downpour was immediately stopped, although no water could be drawn through the house until the plumbers should come and repair the pipes.

      "Ted," said Mrs. Barlow, as her husband and Patty returned, "I don't believe Hopalong will be home in time to cook dinner, so suppose we have a pick-up supper? It's getting late, and Patty must be nearly starved after her journey from Boston."

      "All right," said Uncle Ted, cheerily; "is there anything in the house to eat? Where's Bumble?"

      "Go and hunt her up, please, and tell her I want her. And did you get the cheese and fruit as I asked you to?"

      "Yes, I bought out the whole market and carried it all home with me."

      "Very well, then we won't starve. Now wheel me into the dining-room and I'll see what we have on hand."

      Just then Bob and Bumble appeared, each carrying two kittens, and these four sprawling bits of animal life were deposited in Mrs. Barlow's lap, while Patty was called upon to admire them.

      "They are very cunning," said she, stroking them rather gingerly, for they seemed very small and frail.

      "Oh, you can't hurt them," said Bob; "see, pick 'em up this way," and he grasped one by the back of its neck and held it sprawling in the air.

      "No, hold one this way," said Bumble, cuddling a little ball of fur in the palm of her hand. "But, mumsey, I'm awful hungry; aren't we going to have any dinner? Where's Hopalong?"

      "She's gone on the excursion, my dear. Poor thing, she works so hard I'm glad for her to have a little outing."

      "H'm, she gets one about twice a week," said Bob; "Hopalong's the cook, Patty. We call her that 'cause she isn't very lively, and she just shuffles about. But she's a good-natured old thing, and such a good cook--"

      "Here, children, take this flock of cats," said Mrs. Barlow, "and we'll soon have something to eat, cook or no cook."

      Bumble gathered up the kittens, beginning with the white one. "This is the idiot," she said, "but isn't it a pretty cat? You can see she's half-witted, 'cause only one eye is open, and she has such a general air of stupidity."

      "She might turn out to be the smartest of the lot," said Patty.

      "I wish I could keep her and see, but dad says they must all be drowned to-morrow. I neglected the last kitten I had, and didn't feed her regularly, so the poor thing died. Daddy, if you'll let me keep this one, I'll never, never forget to feed her--honest I won't. Please let me keep just this one," and Bumble rubbed the furry ball on her father's cheek.

      "Well, take them away now, and we'll see about it," said her father, and Bumble danced off with the kittens feeling almost sure that she had gained her point.

      Then Bob and his father moved Mrs. Barlow with her chair and footstool out to the dining-room.

      "I don't know what there is, myself," she said, "but we'll forage in the sideboard and pantry and see."

      The foraging resulted in a pair of cold roasted ducks, plenty of plum-cake and a cherry-pie.

      "I'm sorry there isn't any bread," said Mrs. Barlow, apologetically; "I told Hopalong to order it as she went by the baker's, but I fear she forgot it."

      "Never mind," said Bob, "I don't care much for bread, anyhow, do you, Patty? Mother, here's a lot of cold potatoes. Can't you make a salad?"

      "Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Barlow; so the children brought the ingredients, and a fine salad was soon concocted.

      While this was going on, Miss Allen came running in.

      "Oh," she exclaimed, "I'm as hungry as a hunter. We've been out sailing, and I've such an appetite. Who is this pretty child?"

      "This is Patty Fairfield," said Bumble, "my cousin, from the South."

      "Oh, yes, of course, I knew you expected her to-day. How do you do, Patty? I'm very glad to see you. I am Nan Allen, and I want you to like me better than you do any of the Barlows. Do you hear?"

      "Yes," said Patty, "but I'll wait until I see if you like me."

      Miss Allen was a very pretty young lady, of about twenty, with sparkling black eyes, and a lot of curly golden hair, which she wore massed high on her head. She was extremely vivacious and Patty liked her at once.

      Then Bumble set the silver basket on the table, and Nan brought a pile of plates and everybody helped himself or herself to such viands as they wished.

      There was much laughter and gay talk, and Patty enjoyed the informal meal immensely.

       Home-Made Music

       Table of Contents

      "Why do you call this the music-room?" asked Patty; "there's no piano in it, nor any musical instrument that I can see."

      "That's just the reason why," replied Nan. "I christened the room myself, and I called it the music-room because it hasn't anything musical in it. I get so tired of seeing music-rooms filled with pianos and banjos and mandolins and guitars. This is a refreshing change. And besides, when we want music we can sing."

      "Then won't you sing now?" said Patty. "I'd like to hear you."

      "Why, of course we will; would you like to hear some of our original songs?"

      "Yes, indeed! Do you make songs yourself?"

      "Oh, we always make our own songs. Home-made songs are ever so

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