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in sight of the low thatched cottage, covered with roses, that guarded
the turnpike.

They soon saw the young damsel, for she was swinging on the gate, her
dark hair flying in the wind, and her eyes and cheeks bright with the
exercise. She looked at the boys, then laughed.

'Poor little button-boy!' she said; 'you have to be taken care of by two
bigger ones.'

'We've come to see you,' said Sam valiantly, 'because we ain't going to
stand any cheek from you; so you had better look out.'

Nancy stopped swinging, and resting her fat little elbows on the topmost


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