"I say," said the boy, "what's your name? My mother sent us to make friends with you; but we can't do it, if you won't tell us what your name is."
"Her name is Miss Bradford," said Bessie, who wanted to please her sister, and who herself thought it rather fine for Maggie to be called Miss Bradford.
"Oh! and you're another Miss Bradford, I suppose," said the boy, laughing.
"Why! so I am," said Bessie; "I didn't think about that before. Maggie we're two Miss Bradfords."
"Well, two Miss Bradfords, I hope we find you pretty well this morning. My name is Mr. Stone, and my sister's is Miss Stone."
"'Tain't," said the little girl, crossly, "it's nothing but Mary."
"Sure enough," said her brother; "she's just Miss Mary, quite contrary; whatever you say, she'll say just the other thing; that's her way."
"Now, Walter, you stop," said Mary in a whining, fretful voice.
"Now, Mamie, you stop," mimicked her brother.
"I think we wont be acquainted with you," said Bessie. "I am afraid you are not very good children."
"What makes you think so," asked Walter.
"'Cause you quarrel," said Bessie; "good children don't quarrel, and Jesus won't love you if you do."
"What a funny little tot you are," said Walter. "I won't quarrel with you, but Mamie is so cross I can't help quarrelling with her. I like girls, and I want to play with you, and your sister, too, if she'll speak. I have a splendid wagon up at the hotel and I'll bring it and give you a first-rate ride if you like. Come, let us make friends, and tell me your first name, Miss Bradford, No. 2."
"It's Bessie, and my sister's is Maggie."
"And don't you and Maggie ever quarrel?"
"Why, no," said Maggie, coming out of her shy fit when she heard this, "Bessie is my own little sister."
"Well, and Mamie is my own sister, and you see we quarrel for all that. But never mind that now. I'll go for my wagon and give you a ride; will you like it?"
"I will," said Bessie.
In a few minutes Walter came back with his wagon. Maggie and Bessie thought he was quite right when he called it splendid. They told him it was the prettiest wagon they had ever seen. He said he would give Bessie the first ride, and he lifted her in and told Maggie and Mamie to push behind.
"I sha'n't," said Mamie; "I want a ride, too; there's plenty of room, Bessie's so little."
"No, it will make it too heavy," said Walter. "You shall ride when your turn comes."
Mamie began to cry, and Bessie said she would get out and let her ride first; but Walter said she should not.
"There comes Tom," said Mamie; "he'll help you pull."
The children looked around, and there was a boy rather larger than Walter coming towards them.
"Why, it's Tom Norris!" said Maggie; "do you know him?"
And sure enough it was their own Tom Norris, whom they loved so much. He ran up to them and kissed Maggie and Bessie, as if he were very glad to see them.
"Why, Tom," said Bessie, "I didn't know you came here."
"I came night before last, with father," said Tom. "We came to take rooms at the hotel, and I wanted to stay; so father left me with Mrs. Stone, and he has gone home for mother and Lily, and the whole lot and scot of them; they're all coming to-morrow."
"Oh! I am so glad," said Maggie.
"Tom! can't I ride?" asked Mamie.
"You must ask Walter," said Tom; "the wagon is his; what are you crying about, Mamie?"
Walter told what the trouble was.
"Come, now, Mamie, be good, and you shall ride with Bessie, and I will help Walter pull." Mamie was put into the seat by Bessie, and then Tom said they must find room for Maggie, too. So he made her sit on the bottom of the wagon, and off they started. Of course they were crowded, but the two children who were good-natured did not mind that at all, and would have been quite happy had it not been for Mamie. She fretted and complained so much that at last the boys were out of patience and took her out of the wagon.
"You see," said Walter, as the cross, selfish child went off screaming to her mother, "Mamie is the only girl, and the youngest, and she has been so spoiled there is no living with her."
They were all happier when she had gone, and had a nice long play together.
Tom Norris was twelve years old, but he did not think himself too large to play with or amuse such little girls as Maggie and Bessie, who were only seven and five; and as he was always kind and good to them, they loved him dearly. Grown people liked him too, and said he was a perfect little gentleman. But Tom was better than that, for he was a true Christian; and it was this which made him so kind and polite to every one.
When Mr. Bradford came to call his little girls to go home, he found them telling Tom and Walter about the swing which Mr. Jones had promised them, and he invited the boys to go with them and see it. So they all went back together.
When they reached home Mr. Bradford told them they might go on to the barn while he went into the house for a few minutes. The great barn-doors were open, and Mr. Jones and his son, Sam, were busy inside. Just outside the door sat Mrs. Jones with a pan full of currants in her lap which she was stringing. There was a sheep skin on the ground beside her, and on it sat her fat baby, Susie. Two kittens were playing on the grass a little way off, and Susie wanted to catch them. She would roll herself over on her hands and knees, and creep to the edge of her sheep skin, but just as she reached it her mother's hand would take her by the waist and lift her back to the place from which she started. Susie would sit still for a moment, as if she was very much astonished, and then try again, always to be pulled back to the old spot. But when she saw Maggie and Bessie she forgot the kittens and sat quite still with her thumb in her mouth staring at them with her great blue eyes.
"Mr. Jones," said Bessie, "these are our friends. One is an old friend, and his name is Tom; and one is a new friend, and his name is Walter. They have come to see that thing you don't call a swing."
"They're both welcome if they're friends of yours," said Mr. Jones. "I'll show you the scup in a few minutes, as soon as I finish this job I'm about."
"Mrs. Jones," said Bessie, "is that your baby?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Jones, "what do you think of her?"
"I think she is fat," answered Bessie. "May we help you do that, Mrs. Jones?"
"I'm afraid you'll stain your frocks, and what would your ma say then?"
"She'd say you oughtn't to let us do it."
"Just so," said Mrs. Jones. "No, I can't let you help me, but I'll tell you what I'll do. I am going to make pies out of these currants and I'll make you each a turnover; sha'n't you like that?"
"What is a turnover," asked Maggie.
"Don't you know what a turnover is? You wait and see; you'll like 'em when you find out. You can play with Susie if you've a mind to."
But Susie would not play, she only sat and stared at the children, and sucked her thumb. Pretty soon papa came, and when Mr. Jones was ready they all went into the barn.
The swing was fastened up to a hook in the wall, but Mr. Jones soon had it down; and Mr. Bradford tried it and found it quite safe and strong. The seat was large enough to hold both the little girls, if they sat pretty close, so they were both put into it, and papa gave them a fine swing. Then the boys took their turn; and Mr. Jones told them they might come and swing as often as they liked.
III.
THE LETTER
YOU are not going to hear all that Maggie and Bessie did every day at the sea-shore, but only a few of the things that happened to them.
They