such a return for his warm welcome, and while he stood trying to clear his smarting eyes, a fierce little voice said close by,—
"Does it hurt?"
"Oh! dreadfully!"
"I'm glad of it."
"Then you don't love me?"
"I hate you!"
"I don't see why."
"I don't like to be hugged and kissed. I don't let anybody but papa and mamma do it, ever,—so, now!"
"But I'm your cousin, and you must love me. Won't you, please?" besought Cupid, with one eye open and a great tear on his nose.
"I'11 see about it. I don't like crying boys," returned the hard-hearted damsel.
"Well, you made me; but I forgive you," and Cupid magnanimously put out his hand for a friendly shake. But Chow-chow was off like a startled deer, and vanished into the house, singing at the top of her voice a nursery rhyme to this effect,—
"And she bids you to come in,
With a dimple in your chin,
Billy boy, Billy boy."
