~-{ TO CARIBOO AND BACK }-- Mary Mulligan, the little Irish washerwoman stood perched on a box in front of a tub, up to her elbows in suds. “Sure, the holiday’s nothing to me,” she had told Mrs. Wilfer, the mistress of the red brick mansion. “I’ve meself and me boy to kape, and the Queen, bein’ a widow | erself, is not going to take it amiss if I wash on her birthday like it was a common week-day !” Even Mrs. Wilfer was not interested in the holiday, for she was depressed and anxious about other matters on this particular day. But passing by the open windows she could not help seeing the flags that were waving so bravely, and she heard the band play, “When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again,” and later. “In a Hazel Dell My Nelly’s Sleeping.” She even absently hummed the airs herself, while she kept an eye on her active three-year- old daughter. Betty was bent upon joining in the frolic outside if possible. She had soon discovered that exciting things were happening beyond the front gate, which had wide palings, very convenient for looking through. “Betty dear, wouldn’t you like to cut some pretty ladies out of Mama’s book?”? her mother re [11] Se Scag wt oshrunnaniemmienpaeer setae comes anew a eer eee ny oon eoemeaie 5) summer AOE RRA Re et Spe Ro: a AT TE EERE EE sl ALAA Digi mn na ann io Sanaligpinciqcnasstpnavacanensioey ae cen a ta eae i atin ne da