MARCO'S ROOM.]

So Forester took out his pocket-book and opened it, and then appeared to be turning over the leaves, for a moment, to find a place.

Then he began to read, or to appear to read, as follows:

Once there was a little girl named Anne. She came to her mother one day, as she was sitting in the parlor, and began to complain bitterly of her sister Mary. Her sister Mary was older than she was, and had a doll. Anne complained that Mary would not lend her her doll.

"Are you sure that she refused to lend you her doll?" asked her mother.

"Yes, mother, I am _sure_ she did," replied Anne.

"Perhaps she is playing with it herself," said her mother.

"No," replied Anne, "she is ironing in the kitchen."

"I think you must be mistaken," said her mother. "Go and ask her again. Don't tell her I sent you, but ask her yourself, whether she really meant that she was not willing to lend you her doll."

So Anne ran off to put the question to Mary again; presently she returned with the same answer. "Mary," she said, "would not lend it to her."

"I am very sorry to hear it," said her mother, "for now I suppose I shall have to punish you."

"To punish _her_, you mean," said Anne.

"No," said her mother, "to punish you. I don't suppose _she_ is to blame."

"Why, mother - how can _I_ be to blame, for her not being willing to lend me her doll?"

"You _are_, I've no doubt," said her mother.

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