"I should think you'd get awfully tired of balls every night," observed Matilda. "I'd much rather be like my governess. She isn't pretty at all but she knows just everything and she writes verses, too. When I grow up, I'm going to write a whole book and everybody will say how smart I am." She spoke very seriously and the others looked at their ambitious little friend respectfully. Happy children as they were, they could not read the future and see that Matilda Hoffman, although one of the most accomplished young women of her time, would never write the wonderful book of which she dreamed. Nor could they guess that instead her lovely life would be an inspiration to a writer whose books every American would come to know and cherish. "And I'm going 'way west to the lands father's just bought," declared Jacob, "and live with the Indians and wear a blanket and go hunting all the time." "And I'm going with you," piped Benjamin, not understanding what the game was about, but determined not to lose any of the fun. Though something of that afternoon's pretending came to pass for him, for when a man he actually sought what was then the far western territory of Kentucky and became one of the leading citizens of Lexington. "Well, I'm going to be a merchant like father," Joseph spoke with his usual grave determination, never dreaming of the day when he would become a senator. "And what are you going to do, Becky?" Rebecca considered for a moment. Although older than the others, this child's play was very fascinating to her. "The other day," she said slowly, "I had the legend of St. Elizabeth for my French lesson. I think I'd like to be just like her when I grow up." "Was she beautiful and everything like that?" asked Rachel. "I suppose so." Rebecca's voice had grown rather dreamy. "The ladies in stories always are beautiful, aren't they? But I liked her because she went about doing good among the poor peasants, even if her mean husband wanted her to stay at home." "Did he ever find out?" asked Jacob. "Once he thought he did." Rebecca smiled at the recollection. "She was going through the castle courtyard with a basket on her arm and some one told him she was taking bread to the poor people. He was very angry and ran after her and asked her what was underneath the napkin on her basket. You can just imagine how frightened she was!" "Did she tell him?" Matilda wanted to know. "I suppose she was so frightened she just didn't know she was telling a lie," Rebecca excused her heroine, "and before she knew what she was saying, she told her husband that she was carrying roses. And it was in the middle of the winter, too! And when he snatched the napkin off the basket--" the story teller paused impressively, "what do you suppose he found there?" "Bread," chorused her listeners.