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“Yes, you shall be our dear little girl.” Mrs. Bennett took the forlorn child in her motherly arms and kissed her. “You’re tired and hungry, too, aren’t you?” “Now, Pat, kin you tell me which was the best men, the ones that rowed reel hard to save Joner, or the ones that leaned back an’ didn’t care a strawr.” “He ran up and touched noses with Tom like a Feegee Islander,—are they the people that touch noses for ‘How do you do?’” “Oh yes,” said Betty solemnly, “they tell me orl their secrets. They call me their Mornin-Glory Girl.” As she spoke she leaned over to touch with her slender, brown fingers one of the pure, white bells..