Ann hates checkers
and I haven't got the time, often."
"Oh, I LOVE to play checkers!" said Betsy.
"Well, NOW ..." said Uncle Henry, rising instantly and dropping his half-
mended harness on the table. "Let's have a game."
"Oh, Father!" said Cousin Ann, in the tone she used for Shep. "How about
that piece of breeching! You know that's not safe. Why don't you finish
that up first?"
Uncle Henry sat down again, looking as Shep did when Cousin Ann told him
to get up on the couch, and took up his needle and awl.
"But I could read something aloud," said Betsy, feeling very sorry for
him. "At least I think I could. I never did, except at school."
"What shall we have, Mother?" asked Uncle Henry eagerly.
"Oh, I don't know. What have we got in this bookcase?" said Aunt
Abigail. "It's pretty cold to go into the parlor to the other one." She
leaned forward, ran her fat fore-finger over the worn old volumes, and
took out a battered, blue-covered book. "Scott?"
"Gosh, yes!" said Uncle Henry, his eyes shining. "The staggit eve!"
At least that was the way it sounded to Betsy, but when she took the
book and looked where Aunt Abigail pointed she read it correctly, though
in a timid, uncertain voice. She was very proud to think she could
please a grown-up so much as she was evidently pleasing Uncle Henry, but
the idea of reading aloud for people to hear, not for a teacher to
correct, was unheard-of.
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