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 hens. You said a horse book was one about raising horses."

"We haven't got any," I said.

The cashier got down from her stool and walked over behind the show-case where the old lady was standing, and Uncle Rob and I sidled over near them. The cashier is awfully little, not so tall as Bess, and her shoulders were hardly on a level with the top of the show-case; but she smiled up at the old lady. "What-was-it-you-wanted?" she asked.

"A hemn book,—Gospel Hemns and Sacred Songs."

Uncle Rob and I ducked into the office again. "A hen book!" I gasped, holding my sides and rocking in the desk-chair.

Uncle Rob clasped his hands and rolled his eyes. "Ye gods! Suppose I'd handed her a book on chicken farming!"

The cashier wrapped up the book and when the—old lady had gone out, she went back to put away the stock that was left out; and just then a young man came in. We could see him through the glass partition of the office; but we didn't dare to go out just then, because we hadn't got through