"I remember your flapjacks that always split open in the middle, an' no amount o' heat could cook 'em inside," Bert replied. Then they grew sober again when Bert said with a pensive cadence: "Well, I tell you, those were days of hard work; but many's the time I've looked back at 'em these last three years, wishin' they'd never ended an' that we'd never got scattered." "We won't be again, will we, pap?" "Not if I can help it," Anson replied. "But how are you, Bert? Rich?" Bert put his hand into his pocket and laid a handful of small coins on the table. "That's the size o' my pile--four dollars," he said, smiling faintly; "the whole o' my three years' work." "Well, never mind, ol' man. I've got a chance fer yeh. Still an ol' bach?" "Still an old bach." He looked at Flaxen, irresistibly drawn to her face. She dropped her eyes; she could not have told why. And so "Wood & Gearheart" was painted on the sides of the drays, and they all continued to live in the little yellow cottage, enjoying life much more than the men, at least, had ever dared to hope; and little Elsie grew to be a "great girl," and a nuisance with her desire to "yide" with "g'an'pap." There is no spot more delightful in early April than the sunny side of the barn, and Ans and Bert felt this, though they did not say it. The eaves were dripping, the doves cooing, the hens singing their harsh-throated, weirdly suggestive songs, and the thrilling warmth and vitality of the sun and wind of spring made the great, rude fellows shudder with a strange delight. Anson held out his palm to catch the sunshine in it, took off his hat to feel the wind, and mused: "This is a great world--and a great day. I wish't it was always spring." "Say," began Bert abruptly, "it seems pretty well understood that you're her father--but where do I come in?" "You ought to be her husband." A light leaped into the younger man's face. "But go slow," Anson went on gravely. "This package is marked 'Glass; handle with care.'" The End. D. Appleton & Co's Publications. Appleton's Summer Series, 1891 TOURMALIN'S TIME CHEQUES. By F. Anstey, author of "Vice Versâ," "The Giant's Robe," etc. "Its author has struck another rich vein of whimsicality and humor."--San Francisco Argonaut. "His special gift is in making the impossible appear probable."--St. Louis Republic "A curious conceit and very entertaining story."--Boston Advertiser. "Each cheque is good for several laughs."--New York Herald. "Certainly one of the most diverting books of the season."--Brooklyn Times. "Sets a handsome example for the 'Summer Series,' with its neat and portable style of half cloth binding and good paper and typography."--Brooklyn Eagle. FROM SHADOW TO SUNLIGHT. By the Marquise of Lorne.