Apples, Ripe and Rosy, Sir. Mary Catherine Crowley

right," answered Rob, preparing to start.

      Jack and Rob might almost always be found together. They were of about the same age—Jack being fourteen on his last birthday, the 22d of January, and Rob on the 30th of the following March. They lived within a stone's-throw of each other, and had been friends from the time they were little chaps.

      Mr. Gerald Sheridan was a merchant who did business in New York, but he was now taking a few days' vacation, to look a little after the work upon his farm, which was in charge of a hired man. His house, situated a short distance down the road, was large and spacious. The boys walked briskly toward it, planning as they went.

      At Uncle Gerald's the latch string was always out—that is, if the door was not standing hospitably open, as was usually the case in pleasant spring or summer weather; one had only to turn the knob and walk in. Just as they were about to enter the square, home-like hall, lined with old-fashioned settles and adorned with fowling-pieces, fishing-rods, tennis rackets, and the like, Jack's cousin, eleven-year-old Leo, came out of an adjoining room and said;

      "Hello! You want to see father? Well, he's over yonder"—pointing to a sunny patch of ground toward the south—"showing Michael how he wants the vegetable garden planted. Wait a minute and I'll go with you."

      Leo's hat having been discovered in a corner where he had tossed it an hour or two earlier, they started on a race to the garden, and brought up suddenly in front of Uncle Gerald, who now, in a dark blue flannel shirt, trousers to match, and a broad-brimmed hat of grey felt, was evidently dressed for the role of a farmer. He was a pleasant man, tall and slight in figure, with blue eyes, a brown beard, and a cheery, kindly manner, which made him a favorite with everybody, and especially with boys, in whose projects he was always interested.

      "Give you the wood to build a boat?" he repeated, when told what Jack and Rob wanted to accomplish. "Willingly. I am glad to have you attempt something of the kind. I have always maintained that boys should be taught to work with their hands. Every youth ought to learn the use of tools, just as a girl learns to sew, to cook, and help her mother in household duties. Then we should not have so many awkward, stupid, bungling fellows, who can not do anything for themselves. It is as disgraceful for a lad not to be able to drive a nail straight without pounding his fingers or thumb as it is for a girl not to know how to stitch on a button. But I am letting my hobby run away with me, and no doubt you are anxious to be off. You will find the lumber piled in the storeroom of the barn. Take what you need. Perhaps Leo will lend you his pony to draw the load home."

      "Thank you, sir!" answered Jack, heartily.

      Now that the means of carrying out his plan were insured to him, he did not feel in such a hurry; and, furthermore, though quite satisfied that he should have no trouble about it, he would not have objected to a few hints as to how to begin.

      "Can you tell me, Uncle," asked the boy, half jocosely, "if any of the distinguished men you are thinking of ever attempted to make a boat?"

      "To be sure," returned the gentleman. "There was Peter the Great, who, though a tyrannical ruler, might have earned fair wages as a ship-builder. But we shall have to talk about him another time, when I have leisure; for I see that at present Michael wants me to devote all my attention to tomato plants, peas, beans, and seed potatoes. If you wait till tomorrow, I will show you how to set to work."

      "Oh, I guess we can get on!" returned Jack, becoming impatient again, and feeling that it would be impossible to delay, with the whole bright day before them. Rob seemed to be of the same opinion.

      Uncle Gerald smiled, reflecting that, since manual training does not begin with boat-building, they would soon discover the task so confidently undertaken to be a far greater one than they realized. He made no comment, however; and the boys started for the barn-loft, where they selected the wood best suited to their purpose, and carried it down to the yard, where Leo had dragged out the pony wagon.

      "Here," said he, "you may stow the boards into this; and I'll lend you Winkie to draw them home, if you'll promise to let Jim and me see you build the boat."

      Jack's brother Jim was a year older than Leo; but the two chummed together, and were accustomed to stand up for each other, and thus hold their own against the big boys, who were sometimes rather too much inclined to adopt a patronizing tone toward them.

      Jack and Rob now exchanged significant glances, which said plainly that they would prefer the loan of the pony without any conditions. It would be annoying to have the little fellows "tagging after them." But there was no help for it. The pony belonged to Leo, and they could not take it without his permission.

      "Oh—ahem—I suppose so! Hey, Rob?" said Jack, shutting one eye expressively.

      "Well—yes," agreed Rob, appreciating the situation.

      They went round to the front of Winkie's stall. Immediately a shaggy head protruded through the window-like opening, a pair of bright eyes passed over the other visitors and rested upon Leo, with a look which might well be interpreted as one of affection; and a rough nose rubbed up against the boy's arm, this being Winkle's way of expressing delight at seeing his master. He rather resented any attempt at petting from Jack or Rob, however; which led them to tease him, much as they would play with a dog—for he was only a little Shetland pony, hardly larger than a good-sized Newfoundland.

      "Kittelywink!" exclaimed Rob, giving him his full name, which had been shortened for the sake of euphony. "What in the world did you call him that for?"

      "Well, I can't exactly say," replied Leo; "but somehow it's a name that's all jumbled up and confused like, and, that is just about how you feel when he gets playing his pranks. Presto, change! you know. Now you're here, and now you don't know where you are, but most likely it is in the middle of a dusty or muddy road. Oh, you don't mind the fall, 'cause he has an accommodating way of letting you down easy; but it hurts your feelings awful, especially if there's anybody round. You don't seem as big as you were a few moments before. He doesn't act that way with me now, because I try to be always kind and gentle with him. But you just attempt to really plague him, and see who'll get the best of it."

      "Thank you, I guess I won't mind," responded Rob, in a dry tone, which made the others laugh. He already knew by experience something of the pony's capers, though it had been in Leo's possession only a few weeks; while Jack, having been away on a visit, had never driven Winkie.

      "Perhaps if you changed his name he would behave better," suggested Rob.

      "I did think of that," answered Leo, seriously. "I had half a mind to call him Cream Puff; you see he's just the color of those lovely ones they sell at the baker's."

      Both the boys laughed heartily.

      "Crickey! that is an odd name, sure enough, and would suit him splendidly!" said Rob.

      "Yes, and he'd have to be sweet and nice all the time, in order to live up to it," added Jack.

      "Oh, you must not think he is ugly or vicious!" continued Leo. "He never tried to run away, and most of his antics are nothing but sport. He is not really bad, only a bit contrary occasionally, as Michael says. Mother declares that he reminds her sometimes of a boy who has forgotten to say his prayers in the morning, 'cause then he (the boy, you know) is apt to be fractious, and keeps getting into trouble all day."

      "Ha, Leo, what a dead give away!" exclaimed Jack, in a badgering manner. "That's the way it is with you, is it?"

      "That's the way with most fellows, I'll wager!" mumbled Leo, growing red, and wishing he had not been quite so communicative.

      Neither of the others replied to this, but each secretly admitted that there was a good deal of truth in what he said.

      They all assisted in harnessing Kittelywink, who appeared to think this great fun. However, when it became evident that he was expected to draw the little wagon laden with the lumber, he protested decidedly.

      "He doesn't want to be used as a dray-horse," observed Leo, sympathetically.

      Whether Winkie's pride was indeed hurt at