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204 dauntless Alexander, who eluded the Conrad players and drew nearer and nearer to Dutchy. The poor fellow was so bruised from his fall and so fatigued that he could not skate so fast as at first. But he was now close to the goal, and slurring around, with a tremendous “whack!” he sent the puck for the second time behind the goal, just before the Indian overtook him. In another minute the game closed.

The scene that followed was simply pandemonium let loose. Dutchy, now the hero of town and school, was carried home on triumphant shoulders and then three times around his own house. Then, after giving all the school yells, plentifully mixed with Datchy’s name, the last one ending with his whole title, Hendrik van Gelder Schmitt, his proud schoolmates left him to himself and departed.

“ get a paper and pencil, William, and write it down. You had better go to Saunder’s first, and then to Blackett’s.”

Mr. Gordon bent over the table, an old envelop next a medicine-glass, he wrote it down with the stump of a pencil.

“I wish Lucy could wait until I can go and get it with her, I know just what I want. But the doctor says it will be two weeks before I can get out, and the child might get her death o’ cold if we wait. I want a brown coat, William, just a little below the skirt of her dress—with a cape. You had better write it down, William. Don’t get the first thing you see, and—I want a cap for her, a pretty brown tam-o’-shanter to match the coat. Write it down, please. How much money have you?”

Mr. Gordon produced a small roll of bills, and spread out seven dollars.

“Oh, William, is that all! Nevermind, dear; I know you had to get some medicine Saturday night, and—other things. But Lucy has n’t had a winter coat for three years and she does need one—perhaps you will find a bargain, You can wear your new coat home, Lucy, and you help papa buy it.”

Lucy, in happy anticipation of their shopping-trip, sat in the trolley-car which was carrying her downtown, with her father reading his newspaper at her side.

“Your mother said Saunders’s first,” said Mr. Gordon as they finally alighted from the car and entered the great department-store.

“I wish to look at cloaks,” said Lucy’s father to a floor-walker.

“Second floor, please; elevator to the right.”

As they stepped out of the elevator Lucy was a little breathless at the sudden stop, and her small mittened hand closed tightly around her father’s large, cold, red one. He stood looking about a moment, as if a little, a very little, in doubt. Then a queenly creature swept up to them—a young woman with her waist very long in front, and her hair very high and then far down over her left eyebrow; there was a rustle of silk, a waft of perfume, as she approached, Lucy was sure this was a princess; she looked up in admiring awe as the princess, with chin high and lowered eyelids, asked:

“What do you wish to see?”

Lucy’s father, too, was awed by the royal bearing of the princess. He knew his errand was a proper one—he had almost felt it was a noble one; but now he stammered: “Ah—er—coats, if you please, for my little girl.”

“This way, please,” said the princess, “About what price, may I ask?”

“Ah—er—well, I don’t know,” Lucy's father said weakly. Have you anything for five dollars?”

“We have something for six and a half, marked down from ten,” said the princess.

Lucy’s father looked so helpless that Lucy nudged him. “Let ’s look at it, papa.”

“I ’ll show you what we have,” condescended the young woman; and Lucy and her father