"Has he ever done it before?" asked Florence sympathetically. "Never with me; but he used to get away from John, when he was younger. Now he has started, I am afraid he will repeat the experiment, he has had such a good time to-day. It just makes me want to whip him!" And Mrs. Adams glared out at the unconscious Job who was quietly cropping a tuft of green grass. It may be that the stolen fruit was not so sweet to his tongue as Job had expected, or his conscience may at length have begun to act once more. He slowly raised his head and gazed longingly up and down the street, as if yearning to try a wider field for his gymnastics. Then apparently his sense of duty carried the day for, turning reluctantly, he plodded away to the open stable door, and quietly marched into his accustomed place. "Run, Polly, quick! Run and fasten the door!" her mother exclaimed, as she hurried away to tie up the prodigal, to prevent any fresh wanderings. When the doctor came home to dinner and heard the story, he was merciless in his teasing. "One woman, six girls, and one boy, all to be outwitted by one poor old horse twenty-nine years old! "he exclaimed. "Now, that's not so!" interposed his wife. "Job isn't but twenty-three, so don't put any more years on his devoted head." Dr. Adams laughed. He took a sinful pleasure in reminding his wife of Job's advanced age. "Twenty-nine last June," he said, as he gave Polly her second piece of meat. "If you are careful of him and keep him for a few years longer, you can sell him out at a high price, to be exhibited as a curiosity." "Sell Job! Never!" protested Mrs. Adams. "I would almost as soon sell Polly. No money could ever make up for that old fellow's intelligence, and for the real love he gives me." "Yes," added Alan sympathetically; "and no money could buy his obedience to you, this afternoon, when he was loose." While the table was being cleared for the dessert, the doctor suddenly turned to his daughter. "Well, Polly," he asked; "how comes on the reading club?" "Finely, papa. Why?" "I didn't know but you were tired of it, by this time, and wanted something else." "Oh, no; we have such good times," said Jean enthusiastically. "And if we gave it up, you never would get your stockings darned, either." "Oh!" And the doctor lapsed into silence. "What made you ask, papa?" inquired Polly. "Mere curiosity." "I know better than that," she said, seizing his hand as it lay on the table. "Now, popsy Adams, you just tell us what you are driving at." "What is the use?" asked the doctor provokingly. "I did have another plan; but if you are all satisfied, I'll offer it to some of the other girls, or perhaps Aunt Jane will take it in charge." This was too much for Polly. "Do tell us," she begged. "We'll do it too, whatever it is; won't we girls?" "But what if it is something that isn't funny at all, something for which you have to give up your own good times?" Polly's face fell, but she answered steadily,--