Burnett Minor always wanted to read it herself--"it" usually being one of the sublimer passages from the current number of the "Pansy Library" or an especially choice one from an office-boys' periodical. Louie smiled languidly now as the girl snatched a booklet from Elwell's hand and gave tongue. "I've punctured your back tyre, Causton, but Mac has some solution and we'll mend it after tea--and I'm always to do my hair like this, Harris says--do look at it, isn't it stunning?--and now--aha!" (somebody had made a grab for her book). "Thought you'd got it, didn't you, Elwell? Now I'll read it first and then show her the picture, and that reminds me, Mac, you've never given me my 'Jack Sheppard' back that I lent you----" Louie reached for a chair. She yawned again. "Do give me a cup of tea, somebody. I hope the watering's all done, for I'm not going to do any. What's the child got now? If it's 'Maria Martin' or 'Irene Iddesleigh,' I think I know them by heart." The child herself answered her question. She jumped on a chair and extended an arm for silence. "Ready?" she cried. "Now!" "'THE LIFE AND BATTLES OF BUCK CAUSTON,'" she declaimed in her most ringing voice, "'_Being the Full Story and Only Authorised Life of this Famous Pugilist_'-- ("Causton's uncle, don't forget, girls)-- "'_Revised by Himself and now Published for the First Time--including his Historic Encounter with the Great Piker Betteridge_'-- ("Piker Betteridge--'Piker'--isn't it lovely?) "'_Entered at Stationers' Hall and All Rights Reserved_ "'PRICE ONE PENNY'" B. Minor drew out every syllable of the linked sweetness, and concluded; "And lo and behold--on the cover--Buck himself--Uncle Buck, Causton--you needn't say he isn't--as large as life and twice as beautiful--there!" She held up the booklet in triumph. But she drew it back again, bubbling with enjoyment. "Wait till I find _the_ gem--the one about Piker," she cried. Her fingers fluttered rapidly through the precious pennyworth in search of the "gem." Louie's cup of tea had been at her lips, but not a drop spilt as she put it down again. If her colour changed at all it was only as that other pale fighter's had done whose story, Price One Penny, the unconscious Burnett Minor was rapturously searching. "Here it is!" cried B. Minor, peremptorily extending her hand again. "Listen, everybody!-- "'_But the redoubtable Buck refused to allow the wiper to be skied. He recked nothing of his bunged optic and the claret that flowed from his beezer. Game as a buck-ant he advanced for the twenty-eighth round. The Piker, whose bellows were touched_----'" But Louie had risen and walked to the child. She held out her hand. "Let me look," she said. B. Minor gave her a suspicious look, as if she feared she might be reft of her treasure. "You will give it me back?" "Oh yes." Louie took the book.