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but saw nothing that had not been
there the night before. The ting-a-ling-a-ling sounded once more. "It's
in this room somewhere!" she exclaimed, bouncing out of bed. She looked
on bureau, washstand, bookcase, and window-seat, and then jumped, for
the loud ting-a-ling came almost from underneath her feet. She hastily
lifted the drooping cover of a little table that stood near the window,
and there on the edge of the lower shelf stood an alarm-clock of the
ordinary pattern but of rather extraordinary appearance, owing to a
large yellow paper ruff which encircled its face.

"How did it get there?" exclaimed Dorothea in astonishment; and as she
gazed the clock burst forth with another loud ting-a-ling.

"Isn't it ever going to stop doing that?" she said, lifting it as she
spoke. The yellow ruff seemed to have something written on it, so she
took it off and, smoothing it out, read:

 DEAR DOLLY: Happy school-day! After much earnest consideration I
 have selected this as a suitable reminder of this joyful (?)
 anniversary. It will continue to remind you five mornings in the
 week, thereby saving your family much wear and tear, for it will be
 properly wound and set every night by

 Your affectionate brother,
 JIM.

 P.S. When you are sufficiently aroused, press the lever and the
 alarm will stop.

 [Illustration: Dorothea was a "sleepyhead"]

"It's one of those awful clocks that go off every minute!" said
Dorothea, carefully examining it to find the lever. She almost dropped
it when it began another of its loud and long rings, but she soon found
and pressed the lever and thereafter the clock was silent except for its
customary tick.

"I don't believe I shall ask anybody to give me presents any more," she
said, eying Jim's "reminder" with disfavor. But she changed her mind a
little later when, on looking for a clean handkerchief, she discovered a
flat square box tied with blue ribbon, and, opening it, saw half a dozen
handkerchiefs with narrow blue borders and a little blue D in the
corner. On the top was Cousin Edith's visiting-card, on the back of
which was printed in fantastic letters:

 Dear Dolly: Use a handkerchief
 Whenever you're inclined to sniff.
 But with this band of blue I think
 They don't need polka-dots of ink.

It was a constant wonder to the household what Dorothea did with her
handkerchiefs when she was at school. In vain she protested that she
didn't wipe her pen on them, and she didn't use them as blotters or to
wash out her ink-well; but, nevertheless, black stains almost always
appeared upon them, and Florence insisted that the family had to buy an
extra pint of milk a day to take out all these ink-stains. Cousin Edith
was too frequent a visitor not to know all the family plans and jokes,
and Dolly, as she laughed and shook out one of the blue-bordered
squares, resolved that "polka-dots" should be conspicuous by their
absence, for Edith would be sure to know.

She entered the breakfast room just as the family were sitting down to
the table.

"Behold the effects of my generosity and fore-thought!" exclaimed Jim
waving his hand toward her. "Our Youngest is in time for breakfast!"

"Many happy returns of the day, small sister," said Anita, just as if it
was her birthday, kissing her good morning and slipping a little hard
package into her hand. "Bob sends you this with his love."

"I don't mind returns of the day when it's like this," said Dorothea,
opening the package and at the same time spying a couple of tissue-paper
parcels lying beside her plate. Inside was a small chamois-skin case out
of which slid a little pearl-handled penknife. The accompanying card
bore the name of her future brother-in-law, and also these words:

 I hesitate to offer you
 This knife, for I shall be
 Afraid that if you cut yourself
 You straightway will cut me.

"How long did it take Bob to execute that masterpiece?" inquired Jim as
Dorothea read it aloud.

"You're jealous," she said. "Yours wasn't half so lovely as Cousin
Edith's and Bob's. It wasn't poetry at all."

"I left all the eloquence to my gift itself," answered Jim, helping
himself to an orange.

Dorothea paid no attention to him, for she was opening a small package
fastened by a rubber band. It was a silver-mounted eraser with a tiny
brush at one end. The inclosed note read:

 This advice I must repeat;
 Spare the rub and spoil the sheet.
 If you can't restrain your speed,
 This will prove a friend in need.

Dolly joined rather shamefacedly in the general smile, as she thanked
Florence, whose writing she had recognized. She was very apt to postpone
her work until the last minute, and then rush through it as fast as
possible; her compositions suffered from the many careless mistakes that
she was always in too much of a hurry to correct, while her drawings
belonged to what Jim called the "slap-dash school."

"We shall know by the amount of rubber left at the end of the term
whether you have taken my valuable advice," said Florence. "What's in
that other package, Baby? I know it is Anita's by the extreme elegance
of its appearance."

 [Illustration: "'MANY HAPPY RETURNS OF THE DAY, SMALL SISTER,' SAID
 ANITA."]

Dorothea opened an oblong package tied with green ribbon and found a set
of blotters fastened to a dark green suède cover ornamented with an
openwork design of four-leaf clovers, and a pen-wiper to match. On top
lay a slip of paper on which was written in Anita's pretty hand:

 Wishing "Our Youngest" good luck and a happy school year.

"I'm not good at verses, so you'll have to be content with plain prose,"
said Anita, and Dorothea assured her that she was quite satisfied.

"Half past eight, Dolly," said her mother when breakfast was over. "It
is time you started."

"Oh, not yet, mother," said Dorothea the Dawdler. "It only takes me
fifteen minutes."

"Now, see here," said Jim; "what do you suppose stirring young
business-men like your father and brother are lingering until the nine
o'clock train for, unless it is to see you off for school? We want to
give you as good a send-off as possible, for you're going to be absent
four whole hours, but we can't,--unless you do your part and begin to go
pretty soon. I don't believe you've got all your books together, as it
is."

 [Illustration: "'LEND ME YOUR PENCILS, WON'T YOU, JIM?' SAID DOROTHEA."]

"Yes, I have," answered Dorothea triumphantly. "They are all on the hall
table, for I put them there last night. Oh, gracious!" she exclaimed
blankly: "I forgot to see whether I had any pencils! I don't believe I
have one! Jim, lend me yours, won't you? Just for to-day."

"Lend you my most cherished possession? Never!" said Jim, placing his
hand dramatically over his breast pocket.

"Then, Daddy, won't you please lend me yours?"

"Trot along, trot along!" said her father; and Dorothea, not knowing
quite what to make of having her demands thus ignored, put on her big
sailor hat and started to gather up her books. On top of the pile was a
slender inlaid box under a card be

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