"A storm! how thrilling! the wonders of the deep!" sighed Miss Croly, all in one breath. "You make it all so real, Kitty. I can hear the roar of the elements and the dash of the breakers--" As she spoke, Miss Croly had taken up the poker, and after making a dab at the fire, was gently replacing it at the right of the fireplace, when Madam Flynt interrupted her. "There are no breakers in mid-ocean, Cornelia! And will you kindly leave the poker where it was, on the left side?" "Excuse me, my dear Clarissa, it is far more convenient on the right side. As attending to the fire is one of my little duties--a very pleasant one, I am sure--it seems not unreasonable for me to have the poker where I can use it. You grant that?" Seeing Argument throned on both brows, Kitty rose hastily and made her excuses. She had several other visits to make; she would run in this evening, or surely to-morrow morning. Madam Flynt was the kindest of the kind, as she always was: yes, Kitty would think over very carefully what she had said, and would let her know: she thanked her ever and ever so much: good-bye! "Good-bye, Miss Croly! So glad to see you!" Kitty shut the door on a rather awful "Cornelia!" and fled, only stopping a moment in the kitchen to greet the two maids, friends of her childhood, and to steal a cooky from under Sarah Cook's nose, to the huge delight of that kindly mammoth. Down the street sped Kitty: the dear, friendly street, where every house smiled a welcome, every window shed a friendly blink. The Common was on her left, a smooth field of snow, crossed by two intersecting board walks. Every tree was a friend too: the bare, graceful branches were moving in the crisp breeze, and each seemed to wave her a welcome. There was the Earliest Maple! Kitty wondered what children drove their spiles and hung their pails now for the sap. She and Tom used to be rather odious, she feared, about that tree. They assumed ownership of all rights in it, both tapping and climbing. She recalled a keen frosty morning like this, when Wilson Wibird had "cut in" early, pulled out her spile and driven in his own. Tom came like a flame of fire across the Common, tore out the spile and threw it away, then pummeled Wilson till he ran shrieking home. Wilson always shrieked when any one touched him. Where next? Judge Peters would be at his office: she would go down there. He was so wise, he would tell her what to say to Madam Flynt. Resisting the call of many a friendly housefront, Kitty went down the hill and turned into "the Street." There were several streets in Cyrus, be it understood, but only one that began with a capital. The first person she met was Wilson Wibird himself. He was on the opposite sidewalk, and came across, waving his hand with a familiar gesture. "Weedy, seedy, needy, greedy!" naughty Tom! But Wilson looked exactly the same, only a man instead of a hobbledehoy.