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 with a bald head, and it was a fashion among the girls to admire him.

"Doesn't she look pretty?" said Rose. "Just notice Mrs. Searles, Katy. She's grinning at Clover like the Cheshire cat. What a wonderful cap that is of hers! She had it when Sylvia was here at school, eight years ago."

"Hush! she'll hear you."

"No, she won't. There's Ellen beginning her piece. I know she's frightened by the way she plays. Hark! how she hurries the time!"

"There, they are going to have refreshments, after all!" cried Esther Dearborn, as trays of lemonade and cake-baskets appeared below on their way to the parlor. "Isn't it a shame to have to stay up here?"

"Professor Seccomb! Professor!" called Rose, in a daring whisper. "Take pity upon us. We are starving for a piece of cake."

The Professor gave a jump; then retreated, and looked upward. When he saw the circle of hungry faces peering down, he doubled up with laughter. "Wait a moment," he whispered back, and vanished into the parlor. Pretty soon the