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 notice her; her mother, who had attentively observed her actions all the afternoon, said to him, "I think Rosa is waiting for a kiss from her father."

As he approached she did not move or speak, but fixed upon him an arch, inquisitive expression as if sure of reading in his countenance a confirmation of her own consciousness of having solved a great problem.

When, he asked her what she had done with her boat, she drew herself up with the air of one whose sense of dignity has been offended, and said,

"Father you will please not to say anything more about it."

"Why," said he, "I want to explain it to you, so you will see what was the reason it would not sail as you expected. Now will you get it and let us examine it?"

"No, it is where I cannot get it," speaking with as much decision as if she had been the parent, and he the child, "and so we may as well drop the subject, it isn't pleasant."

"I think it is. I should take a great deal of pleasure in showing my little daughter how it differs from a real steamboat, and I think she will be far happier to receive it back to her favor as we have received her to ours."

With a suppressed smile and much more of humility in her tone, she replied,

"I will show you where it is, if you will get it for me."

Under the attic stairs was a large, dark closet, the general receptacle of such miscellaneous articles as