“Don’t befool me any more,” he answered, almost roughly. " "So I perceive," replied Wood. "Children," said the aunt, first to awake, "be young fools as long as God will permit you. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work. I decline to waste a single second even in considering the ugly ones. Wood thought them both remarkably plain, but Mr. Then, presto! What a dreary lot they are when the revellers lay aside the motley! Ruth had come from a far South Sea isle. ‘Ah. “Just fine.
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