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So Johnny Blossom dashed over the hill again. This was something worth hurrying for. When he came to Sandy Point, he saw the grandmother walking alone around the outside of the house, feeling her way as usual.,"It is your grand-daughter, Little Red Riding-Hood. I have brought a cake and a little jar of butter, which my mother has sent you.",“And there are several weeks more of vacation,” sighed Mother.,Duns and their bills,,There was again a moment of utter silence, through which broke suddenly Johnny Blossom’s clear little voice:,“If you only haven’t broken his wind, boy. Pretty risky—to ride him the way you have these last days.”,Mr. Hazard was as good as his word. The same night found him installed in the colonial house from which the great plantation of Crossways had formerly been managed. Now the plantation was a thing of memory only. Only the house and comparatively few cultivated acres remained of the once proud estate. Edward Moseley, the last of a long line, kept a school, which, primarily started for the benefit of his tenants’ children, had become so famous that boys from all parts of the country were now enrolled.,But it puzzled him to know why Jerry could be a traitor to Mr. Whitney and the Service. What was the inducement the cattlemen had offered him, and what had happened on the job that had made him unhappy enough to be unfaithful to it? There was no answer to these questions. He gave it up as a bad job.,At last he passed the sluice gates which marked the center of the dam. A few rods further on he knew he must climb up and look over.,“You are right, Bob. I am the chief and starting from to-day I will have to be Mr. Whitney. There is another rodman here and it would be bad for discipline if you called me by that—‘vacation’ name, let’s call it. But we had mighty good times when I was just Whiskers, didn’t we?”,The Mexican situation was unchanged. The United States had not gone into Mexico and the cattlemen still grumbled but did no more than that. The presence of the soldiers was enough to keep the laborers in check.,In seeking a Souvenir of this Christmas season the ballad of "The Mahogany Tree" lends itself most felicitously to the present purpose which is to.