Before the child could reply, the girl spoke sharply.

"'Twas that one, sir, and her meddlesome fingers,--"

"Never mind about that," said Uncle Harry, then turning to the child he said:

"Did you like that one best, or is that larger one finer?"

"That large one is the loveliest. I didn't _ever_ see one so fine as that."

"We'll have that one, then," he said, offering a bill to the astonished salesgirl.

"There, little girl, she's yours," he said, as he placed the big doll in her arms.

"I can hold her a little while?" she asked, eagerly.

"You can hold her _always_, if you want to," he said gently, "I bought her for you."

Rapturously she clasped the gift in her arms.

"Oh, I love you, because you are good," she cried.

"Then tell me your name," he said.

"I'm Lois Ann Ferguson," chirped the little girl, "and father is Sandy Ferguson. Oh, there he is now. He's to play the pipes."

She ran toward a st.u.r.dy man dressed in Highland costume, and carrying the bagpipes under his arm.

Mr. Ferguson glanced at her flushed cheeks, saw the gorgeous doll that she flourished before his astonished eyes, and finally understood that the tall, handsome stranger had bestowed it upon his wee daughter, as a gift.

He took her little hand, and hurried forward, saying:

"I dinna ken why he should dae it for my wee la.s.sie.

"I wad gladly thank ye, sir," he said, "but I'm lost in wonder that ye made wee Lois sae blithe an' gay wi' the braw gift."

"She's a dear little la.s.s," said Uncle Harry, "and when I found her crying, I knew that a fine new doll would dry her tears. Don't bother to thank me. I made myself happy, when I comforted her."

"I wish there were mair like ye," said Sandy Ferguson, "an' some day when ye're older, an' ha' a wee daughter of yer ain,--"

"I have a wife and baby girl now," was the quick reply, "and they are my dearest possessions."

"An' I thought ye a braw, bonny laddie, wi' yer fair hair an' blue een!

Weel, weel, ye dinna hae tae live 'til ye're auld before ye ken tae dae a kindly act," Sandy Ferguson replied, "an' later when I play the pipes, an' Lois dances, she shall make her first bow tae her new friend."

"Oh, Uncle Harry, _did_ you buy the new doll for the little girl?"

It was little Flossie, who, after having searched every corner of the tent, had found him talking to the Scotchman and his little girl.

"Is he your own uncle?" little Lois asked, looking up into Flossie's lovely face.

"Oh, yes," said Flossie, "and he's the best uncle in the world."

"I know he must be," said the little girl. "See how good he was to me."

They turned to join the rest of their party, and little Lois looked over her shoulder, with one hand held fast in her father's, while with the other she tightly clasped the precious doll.

"I saw the notice near the entrance when we came in, that a Scotch farmer would play, and his little daughter would dance," said Uncle Harry, "but that child is not much more than a baby. She cannot be more than four. It will be amusing to see her dance, and Nancy Ferris will enjoy it most of all."

They found the others reading the notice of which they had been talking, and they were delighted when they heard what a very little girl it was who was to dance.

They had a lunch served by girls dressed as dairy maids, and it was just such a lunch as might have been enjoyed at a farmhouse.

The long table spread with its white cloth, and set with blue and white dishes, was decorated by a garland of small sunflowers that lay upon the cloth, down the centre, and the entire length of the table.

There were plates heaped with biscuit, there were dishes of both wild and cultivated strawberries, and delicious cream to be eaten with them, there were sandwiches and little cakes, honey enough to tempt the bees to the feast, and the children thought it finer than a hotel dinner. How they laughed, and chattered, as they enjoyed the spread!

Uncle Harry was in his sunniest mood, and told stories and jokes that kept them amused, and seemed to be the gayest member of the party.

"Tell us a story about when you were a _little_ boy," said Flossie.

"My small niece thinks I'm nothing but a _big_ boy now!" he said.

"Well, the big Scotchman thought you were only a lad. I heard him say so," said Flossie.

"When you were a boy were you ever naughty, _real_ naughty?" Floretta asked.

She had been very quiet, and all were surprised at her question.

"Once upon a time, when I was little," said Uncle Harry, "I was very, _very_ fond of good things, but the one thing that I liked better than anything else was strawberry jam.

"I was always allowed to have it, but I felt sure that it would taste even nicer if I had more of it at a time, and still finer if I could have a long handled spoon, and eat it right from the jar.

"I used often to think how fine it would be if I, some day, could have the chance to eat it that way, but I never could get even _very_ near the jar.

"One day the opportunity came. My sister and I were in the nursery, and the maid had been down-stairs for a long time.

"The rest of the family were away, and we were to have our tea in the nursery, as usual, only, as we had had to remain at home, we were to have an extra treat.

"Among other good things, we were to have strawberry jam.

"My sister, that is Flossie's mamma, was a little older than I, and she was always trying to give me lessons in good behavior.

"'Now, Harry,' she said, 'while nurse is down-stairs, we might commence to set our table.'

"'There isn't anything here to set it with but the tablecloth and the jam,' I said, 'but you're a girl, so you know how to put the cloth on, and I'll bring the jam.'"

"I guess Uncle Harry was so fond of the jam, that he liked even to carry the jar," said Flossie.

"We wondered why the nurse stayed so long down-stairs," continued Uncle Harry, "and I told my sister that I was tired of waiting for tea, and I said I'd taste of the jam, if only I had a long handled spoon.