On her ninth birthday Hugh gave her the ponderous tome from which so much of Mrs. Opie's facts have been obtained, and into this volume she put her verses and her thoughts just as they came into her curly head, standing upon a stool to make her high enough to reach the writing-table with comfort. There was an unspoken understanding between us that I was at liberty to read this book, but never in her presence. One night after she had spent the afternoon at work upon it, I drew it toward me, to find a new set of verses beginning: The heifer by the milking pail, Whose neck-cloth is so white, etc. and underneath the following, in which the influence of the Good Book was surely visible: "MY COMANDMENCE! 1. I must love Jock Stair first of all created things, for he was my mother's friend and mine. 2. Since the Lord has cast the poor from him I must do what I can for them. 3. I must not be afraid of any livving thing, for no gentleman can show forth fear. 4. I must not wish Huey Macrath from Stair, tho' he snuffles and his ears are large, for he was here before I was and is very ritechus. 5. I must not swear, tho' Sandy does, and to say dam is not godly, for a girl. More to morrow, L. F. S." I was prouder of these than I have words to tell, seeing that already she was beginning to consider conduct. And an event which followed soon after made me plume myself still further. I had taught her to play chess, and Danvers Carmichael being home from his English school, Sandy and I made a merry wager of a game for a guinea a side, each of us backing the talent of our own offspring. Nancy, who was about half Danvers' height, drew the whites, and led off by the good conservative opening of the king's knight, the boy replying well and putting the pieces out after the usual fashion. Nancy unexpectedly played her queen. "Check," she said. Dand interposed a pawn. Nancy moved a knight. "Check," she said again. Dand was forced to move his king, and in three moves I could see the game was hers. Suddenly she retreated and began a process which never in my whole experience with her had I seen duplicated. She trifled ineffectually with her men, moving them hither and thither with no purpose or aim; and, to crown all, after one of these fruitless moves, the boy cried, "Mate," placing his queen triumphantly from one side of the board to the other. Nancy's eyes shone with pleasure. "You beat me," she cried. "Sandy won the guinea, Jock." I can not recall when a small thing annoyed me as much as this one did, and the next morning, finding the Little Flower making verses on the west wall, I sat down to get some explanation from her. "Nancy," I began, "why did you play so badly at chess last night?" The shy look with which I was familiar came into her face. "He can't play chess, Jock," she said. "I know it," I cried; "I saw that; but why did you disgrace your father, young woman, answer me that?"