"Wait till to-morrow, and you will have your wish."

"But I don't want to wait."

"Don't you know some new games, Esther?"

This sort of thing went on for some time till tea and cake made a diversion, and lights were brought. Then the cry was, "What shall we do all the rest of the evening?"

"I have a game for you," said David at last.

"What is it? what is it?"

"A new game."

"What _is_ it?"

"It is called, 'Capital and Interest.'"

"I don't understand that," pouted one of the young ladies.

"You will understand it fast enough, when we come to play it."

"How do you play it?"

"You must choose a Judge and a Recorder."

"What's a Recorder?"

"Some one to put down what we say. We all tell our business; the Recorder sets it down, and the Judge says whose business is worth the most."

"How can he tell?"

"He can hear what we say, and he can use his judgment, as we all can."

"Must we tell the truth? or say what we have a mind?"

"Either you like."

"That's jolly!" said one of the boys. "I go in for saying what we have a mind."

"Just imagine the nicest things you can," David went on.

"To eat?" said Esther.

"No, no; you've done enough of that to-day," said Norton. "Imagine what you have a mind to,--every sort of thing that's pleasant."

"Well you begin, Norton, because you understand it. We'll hear you play, and so learn."

"We have got to choose the Judge first. And the Recorder."

"What's the Judge to do?"

"Say who has made the best business."

"I don't understand a bit of it," said Esther.

"No, but you will presently. You'll see. Wait till we begin. Who will you have for Judge?"

There was a general cry of "David Bartholomew!"

"No," said David, "I won't be Judge. I'll be Recorder, if you like. For Judge, I propose Norton Laval."

Norton was agreed upon unanimously.

"Now we are ready. Esther, we will begin at you. Tell what you have, or what you would like to have; and then, what you would do with it, or use it for."

"I don't know what you mean," said Esther.

"You are not tied to facts. Tell what you like. What would you most like?"

"Most like?" repeated Esther. "Let me see. It's very hard to begin with me, when I don't know the game. Let us see. I think I should like to have the most beautiful diamonds in New York."

"Very good," said Norton. "Now tell what you would do with them."

"Do with them? Why, wear them, of course."

"Of course," said Norton. "But the diamonds are your capital, you understand; what interest will you get for your capital? What _good_ will they do you, Esther? that's it."

"What good?" said Esther. "Why, if I had the finest jewels of anybody, don't you see I should outshine everybody?"

"I don't see it," said Norton; "but then I'm not in that line. It's _your_ business we are talking of. Put it down properly, Recorder. Now Bob Francis--what's your idea of a jolly life, eh?"

"_I_ don't know!" said Bob. He was a year older than his sister; not a year brighter.

"O yes, you do. Fancy--but I don't believe you _can_ fancy. What would you like best, Bob?--come!"

"I'd like as well as anything to be a cavalry officer, and have nothing to do but ride."

"A cavalry officer has a great deal to do, I can tell you, my fine fellow, besides riding," said David.

"O well; _I_ don't want to have anything else to do," said Bob. "I'd cut school; it's a bore."

"But you can't ride always. What will be the good of your riding when you are sick, or get old?"

"O then I'll die," said Bob contentedly.

"Let it stand, Davy," said Norton. "Write him down, with a horse and a saddle for his capital and riding his business. Who's next? Hatty Delaplaine! What will _you_ have?"

Hatty, a pale, freckled girl, with twinkling gray eyes, was ready with her answer.