"And now perhaps you will tell me your name." "Prissy. That's the short un." "The long one is----" "Priscilla." "A grand name. You ought to have a silk gown and satin shoes and a gold comb." Prissy opened her eyes very wide. The ice was melting quickly, and the buds were coming on the trees. "And baby's name?" "Wictoria Rejiner. That's grander, aint it?" "Much grander! Victoria Regina--a little queen!" Prissy gave baby a kiss, with pride and love in her glittering eyes. "What makes your face so black, Prissy?" "Coals. Aunty deals in 'em--and cabbages and taters and oranges and lemons. And she takes in washing." So genial was Aaron Cohen's voice that spring was coming in fast. "You look, Prissy, as if you had very little to eat." "I don't 'ave much," said Prissy, with a longing sigh. "I could eat all day and night if I 'ad the chance." "My dear," said Aaron to his wife, "there is some coffee left in the pot. Do you like coffee, Prissy?" "Do I like corfey? Don't I like corfey! Oh, no--not me! Jest you try me!" "I will. Give me Victoria Regina. Poke the fire. That's right; you are the quickest, sharpest little girl in my acquaintance. Pour some water from the kettle into the coffeepot. Set it on the fire. Rachel, my dear, take Prissy and baby into the kitchen and let them wash themselves, and afterward they shall have some supper." The buds were breaking into blossom; it really was a lovely spring. In a few minutes Rachel and the children re-entered the room from the kitchen, baby with a clean face, and Prissy with a painfully red and shining skin. Following her husband's instructions, Rachel cut half a dozen slices of bread, upon which she spread the butter with a liberal hand. Prissy, hugging Victoria Regina, watched the proceedings in silence. By this time the coffee was bubbling in the pot. "Take it off the fire, Prissy," said Aaron Cohen; and in another minute the little girl, with baby in her lap, was sitting at the table with a cup of hot smoking coffee, well sugared and milked, which she was so eager to drink that she scalded her throat. The bread and butter was perhaps the sweetest that Prissy had ever ate, and the coffee was nectar. The baby ate more than Prissy; indeed, she ate so much and so quickly that she occasionally choked, and had to be violently shaken and patted on the back; but she became tired out at last, and before Prissy had finished her bounteous meal she was fast asleep in her nurse's arms. Aaron Cohen leaned back in his chair, and gazed with benevolent eyes upon the picture before him; and as he gazed the sweetest of smiles came to his lips and did not leave them. Rachel, stealing to the back of his chair, put her arms round his neck, and nestled her face to his. It was a most beautiful summer, and all the trees were in flower. CHAPTER XIII. AARON COHEN PREACHES A SERMON ON LARGE NOSES.