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 weigh down that side,—and I am going to try not to see anything at all to put into the other."

"But there will be things to go into the other side," I said. "There always are."

"Yes," said Bess, "but I'm not going to see any more than I can help; and when I do see one that I simply can't keep out of the wrong side, I'm going to—to dissect it;—because if I don't, I might accidentally throw into the wrong scoop something that belongs in the right one, or at least a part of it might belong there, and I'm not going to take any chances. And then—and then, if it just has to go in, I'm going to make it weigh as light as possible and—and—"

"Yes," I said, "and I suppose you'll keep slapping down the good scoop all the time, to make it weigh as heavy as possible."

"Sure, I will," laughed Bess. "Thank you for the suggestion. That will help some. I believe I'm beginning to like her already."

"I'm not," said I; for just then I got a picture of those two girls chumming together and—I didn't like it; and I didn't like the fact that I had to admit to myself that I was selfish, either. I commenced punching holes in the sod with my