gates. She prepared her bath without aid, brushed her hair and dressed herself entirely. It was true that her curls did not look much as they did after mamma's loving fingers had handled them, and the less said about those on the back of her head the better. Nor were the buttons in the right places to match the buttonholes, and the result was that the little frock which had always been so tidy hung at a curious angle from its wearer's shoulders.
But who'd mind a trifle like that, in a beginner?
Not Uncle Joe, who saw only the fair front of his visitor, as she ran down the hall to meet him, emerging from his own chamber. Indeed, he was not now in a mood to observe anything save himself, though he answered Josephine's gay "Good-morning" with another rather grimly spoken.
The child paused, astonished. There were no longer tears in his eyes, but he looked as if a "good cry" would be relief. His face was distorted with pain, and every time he put one of his feet to the floor he winced as if it hurt
