"Here's Tulee!" shouted Flora.

"It isn't well drawn, but it _is_ like her.

I'll make a handsome picture from it, and frame it, and hang it by my bedside, where I can see it every morning.
Dear, good Tulee! How she jumped up and kissed us when we first arrived here.

I suppose she thinks I am dead, and has cried a great deal about little Missy Flory.

O, what wouldn't I give to see her!" She had peeped about everywhere, and was becoming very much dispirited with the desolation, when Mr.Jacobs came back with a mule and a small cart, which he said was the best conveyance he could procure.