AA day or two after this, a lady and gentleman named Moore came to make a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Bradford. They brought with them their son George, a boy about Harry's age. What kind of a boy he was may be known from a conversation between Harry and Fred on the first evening of the Moores' visit.

"Harry," said Fred, as they were undressing for bed, "what do you think of that chap?"

"Who,—George?" said Harry; "I don't fancy him, though it's scarcely fair to judge yet; but I don't think there's much in him. He's a Miss Nancy-ish sort of a fellow."

"There's not much in him of the right sort," said Fred, savagely; "but there's plenty of another kind; and if he tries it on here, I'll have it out of him."

"Halloa!" said Harry; "what has set you up that way, Frederick the Great? What would papa say to hear you speaking so of a guest in his house?"

"I don't care," said Fred; "guest or no guest, I am not going to have any fellow playing shabby tricks on our Midget and Bess. It is a man's duty to stand up for his mother and sisters. I tease the girls myself sometimes I know, more shame for me, but you will allow I haven't done it so much lately, Hal; I couldn't since Bess told me gemperlums didn't tease;" and Fred began to laugh; "but I never played mean tricks on them, and I sha'n't let any chap that's nothing to them. He'd better let them alone, or I'll fix him, that's all."

"But what has he done?" asked Harry. "Seeing he is a visitor, you ought not to talk so about him without some special good reason."

"Reason!" repeated Fred, pulling off his jacket and tossing it upon a distant chair; "there's special reason enough; if that is all you want, I'll tell you. The first thing, this evening, while the grown-upers were at dinner and you were studying in the library, he was playing jackstraws with Maggie and Bessie. I thought it did not seem very polite to leave him alone with the little girls; so, as I had done all my lessons but the copying of my sums, I took my slate to the parlor table. I suppose he thought I was not noticing his play, but I soon found him out. First place, he said they were to throw from the height of their fists, his being twice as big as either of the girls. Presently he told Bessie that she joggled. I couldn't see that she did, but I said nothing. It was the same thing with Maggie. She had only taken off one or two, when he stopped her. Midget was quite sure that she had not shaken, and so was I; but he declared that he had seen it. Pretty soon he gave an awful shake himself, but the girls were looking away, and did not see it. He looked up at them, and seeing they did not notice it, went on playing without a word. The next time he told Bessie she shook, she laid down the hook with a little sigh, and said, in her innocent way, 'We always shake when we don't see; please to 'scuse us, because we don't mean to.' Maggie declared that Bessie had not shaken, and insisted that she should go on; and what do you think the mean fellow did then? He blew upon the jack-straws as Bess went to draw one out; so, of course, they went. 'Then I did shake,' said Bessie. Of course, he won the game by ever so many. 'It's very funny we shook so much when we didn't see,' said Midget. 'You should look sharp,' he answered. So then I put in. 'It don't do to have more than one too sharp in a game,' I said. He took, and after that did not care to play any more. Now, is he not a mean sneak to trick two little girls?"

"That he is," answered Harry, indignantly; "but still it wont do for you to make a row with him, Fred."

"That's not all," said Fred. "You know when Maggie spilled that spoonful of ice-cream over herself at dessert, and a little went on Mrs. Moore's dress? Well, it was all George's doing. Just as she went to lift it to her lips, he jerked her arm with his elbow, and away went the spoon. Then mamma said, 'Maggie, how could you be so careless, my dear?' and Mrs. Moore looked like a thunder-cloud; but he never had the honesty to own up, even when Meg turned and looked at him with great, wide-open eyes, as if she expected him to speak. Papa suspected something, I know, for he called Maggie to him, and made her stay at his side, not a bit as if he thought it was her carelessness. He had better look out for himself, that's all; for if he tries much more of that game, he'll find me pitching into him."

"You wont fight him?" said Harry.

"Yes, I will fight him, too, if he plagues our girls, or cheats them."

"You know what papa thinks of fighting, Fred; and what will he say if you quarrel with a boy who is a guest in our own house?"

"I'll guest him if he don't mind his p's and q's," said Fred, scrambling into bed in his usual headlong fashion. "I say, Hal, couldn't you give him a hint in the morning that we wont stand such doings? You're a better hand to do it than I am. You'll keep your temper, and I sha'n't."

"I'll see," said Harry, who was desirous to keep the peace between his brother and the visitor, and who knew that Fred's hot temper, and contempt for all meanness, would be very apt to lead him into trouble with such a boy as he perceived George to be.

"There's his mother, too," said Fred, "telling mamma that 'she felt it was a great risk to bring him from home, he was such a good boy, so free from all bad habits. She had never allowed him to play with other children, as she thought they contaminated each other; and she was glad he seemed to prefer girls' society.' Bosh! He 'prefers the girls' society' because he can come it over them, and he can't over us. His father has more of the right stuff in him. He said, 'it was time George was thrown with other boys, and allowed to take his share of rough and tumble.' But I sha'n't trouble him if he don't provoke me too much, only you tell him we wont stand seeing our sisters ill-treated."

But although Harry did as Fred asked, there was trouble before the day was half over. Mr. Moore gave his son permission to go out to the park during the recess of the school which the boys attended. Before the half-hour was up, George rushed into the house crying loudly, and with his lip cut and bleeding. He made such an outcry that the whole family were very much alarmed; but when his mouth was washed, it proved to be but a slight cut, and nurse declared to Jane that Franky would have been ashamed to make a fuss for such a trifle.

"Fred had done it," he said. "Fred wanted to fight, and he would not. He had never fought in his life. He'd be ashamed to say he had."

Mrs. Bradford was very much troubled; but she waited to hear her own son's side of the story before she judged him. Mrs. Moore, however, had a great deal to say.

When Fred came home, two hours later, his hand was bound up in his pocket-handkerchief.

"How have you hurt your hand, Fred?" asked his father. "Is it true you have been fighting?"

"Yes, sir."

"Without just cause, as George says?"

"I had cause enough, sir, if that was all," said Fred, rather sulkily for him.

"That he had," said Harry. "You'd have been ready to fight yourself, sir. I'll tell you how it was. George is not fair and above board, as we found out last night. So when he came out to the play-ground, I just told him we would allow no unfair play, and he did not try it. But after a while he said he did not care to play with such a rough set, and walked off by himself. I thought I ought to go and see after him, and found him shying stones at the sparrows about the water-tanks. I told him he had better have done with that, or he would have an M. P. down on him. Then he said he guessed he'd go home. First thing I knew a few minutes after, he was howling, and Fred had him by the collar. It seems poor Charlie Wagstaff—poor, hump backed little Charlie—was sitting on a bench reading, when my gentleman George passed by and saw him. He began by throwing gravel over Charley's head and neck, not thinking he was one of our boys, and that not a fellow in the school would see him abused, and at last, getting bolder, snatched his book, and threw it over the park railing. It was a borrowed book, and the poor boy took his crutches and started after it. Then George began dancing about him, and calling him 'Old hipperty hop,' and such names. Fred, who saw them from a distance, feared something was wrong, and ran to the spot just in time to see him pull Charlie's crutch from under him, throw him on the ground, and then run. But Fred collared him, and in his quick way, just let fly and hit him in the mouth. He came off the worst, though, for his knuckles were cut by George's teeth, and he was not so much hurt. George went off roaring, and that moment the whistle sounded, and we had to go in. It was writing hour, and when Mr. Peters saw Fred's bleeding knuckles, he asked him if he had been fighting. He said, 'Yes,' and Mr. Peters was going to keep him in, when Charlie spoke up, and told the whole story. Mr. Peters said we all knew how strict the rules against fighting in play-hours were; but he really thought, in this case, Fred was almost excusable, and asked how many agreed with him. Up went every hand in the school, and I don't think he was ill-pleased either. So he excused Fred, and told me to tell you why he had done so; and I don't believe you'll be the one to blame him, papa."

Mr. Bradford was certainly not disposed to be severe with his boy, but he talked to him a little on the evils resulting from his hasty temper, and readiness to give a blow when a word would answer.

"I am not inclined to punish or reprove you under the circumstances, my son," he said, "but you have made some discomfort for your mother and me, as well as for yourself, by your hasty conduct. It is not pleasant to feel that a son of ours has so conducted himself to the child of our friends, however great the provocation; and you have forgotten the laws of hospitality in attacking one who is a guest beneath your father's roof."

"I'll go and shake hands with him this minute," said Fred. "I did forget who and what he was, that's true, though I'll own I have been afraid I should serve him out ever since he has been in the house."

And Fred went directly to find George and make peace with him. George was unwilling to shake hands, and Mrs. Moore did not look very kindly at Fred, but Mr. Moore insisted that his son should make friends and receive Fred's apology. Neither Harry nor Fred told Mr. and Mrs. Moore of George's misconduct towards Charlie, and he was not honorable enough to tell himself, leaving his parents to suppose it was only Fred's quarrelsome temper that had been to blame.

After this, George kept himself rather apart from the other boys, spending most of his time with Maggie and Bessie, who did not like him much, they could scarcely tell why, but who were very polite to him. Flossy did not like him either, but he showed it very plainly, barking at him whenever he saw him, and if George came near to him scrambling into the children's arms or running under Mrs. Bradford's skirt, where he would keep up a low snarling or woof, wooffing, which was very unmannerly.

Just about this time Mrs. Bradford found that one of Maggie's second teeth was making its appearance behind the first tooth, which was not yet loosened to give place to it. She was afraid that the new tooth would come crooked, and so spoil the looks of Maggie's mouth, and she said she thought she must take her to the dentist and have the old one drawn.

Now Maggie had a great horror of the dentist. Unfortunately, she had once been taken there by grandmamma when Aunt Annie was to have a tooth drawn. Maggie had happened to be in the carriage, and without thinking much about it, Mrs. Stanton had allowed her to go in with them. The tooth was a hard one to draw, and poor Aunt Annie fainted and was very sick, while no one thought of the little frightened child who stood trembling in a corner of the room, thinking that the dentist had killed her dear aunt. Afterwards Aunt Annie took cold in her face, and suffered very much because she foolishly went out too soon; but Maggie thought it all the fault of the poor dentist. After that, whenever her dolls were ill, it was always because they had been to the dentist. They had smallpox, scarlet fever, measles, and broken legs and arms, and were even deaf, dumb, and blind all through the fault of the dentist. Mrs. Bradford was very sorry for this, as she feared it would make trouble with Maggie when her teeth should need any attention; and so it proved, for when she told her she thought she must take her to Dr. Blake, Maggie turned very white.

"It will not be much, dearest," said her mother. "It is a little first tooth, and the pain will be over in a moment."

"Mamma," said Maggie. "I would rather have my mouth ever so ugly than have it out."

"Perhaps you do not care now, Maggie, but when you are a young lady, you will not thank your mother for allowing your teeth to grow crooked in order that she might spare you a moment's pain now."

Maggie said no more, but for the rest of the day she looked so troubled, and she and Bessie had such anxious whisperings, and there was so much feeling and touching of the tooth that was to be lost, that Mrs. Bradford told her husband that she should take her to Dr. Blake the first thing in the morning, that she might have no more time to think about it.

"Maggie," said Mr. Bradford, calling her to him just as he was going down town the next morning,—"Maggie, do you want to earn a dollar?"

"Oh, yes, papa!" and Mr. Bradford smiled as he saw the troubled face light up for a moment.

"You and Bessie are going to be great money-makers," he said. "You must not grow too fond of it, or learn to love it for its own sake. If, when I come home this afternoon, you have a little white tooth to show me, I shall pay you a dollar for it."

"And can I do what I like with it, papa?"

"Yes, whatever you please. You may spend it for Christmas presents or for something for yourself,—just which you choose."

But Maggie did not mean to do either. She thanked and kissed her father, and was off to tell her mother and Bessie.

"There's a whole another dollar for Mary's sack," she said, "now she'll have it all the sooner." And she kept up her courage very well till they drove up to the dentist's stoop. Then Mrs. Bradford felt the little hand she held squeezing her own very tightly, and Maggie looked up in her face with a quivering lip. "I have to think very much about Mary's sack not to cry, mamma," she said.

"You are my own dear, courageous little girl," said Mrs. Bradford, "and it will soon be over now." She was very sorry for Maggie, for she knew this was a hard trial for her, and wished very much that she could bear it in her place; but since this was not possible, all she could do was to help her to bear it bravely.

Dr. Blake was at home and disengaged, and he was so kind and gentle that Maggie was quite ashamed of feeling afraid of him.

"You don't say this little maid has any need of me?" he said.

Mrs. Bradford told what was the trouble, and took off Maggie's hat; the dentist lifted her into the chair, and told her to open her mouth. She gave a long sigh and obeyed, holding on tightly to her mother's hand. Dr. Blake looked into her mouth for a moment, and then patting her on the head, said to Mrs. Bradford,—

"It's all right enough, madam; the first tooth will be loose in a few days, when you may pull it with a thread, and the second will come quite straight. No need for any pulling of mine."

As soon as Maggie understood the tooth was not to come out, she looked very much delighted, then grave again. "If it is not too much trouble, sir," she said, "will you please to take it out."

"Why, you surely don't want to have it drawn for the fun of it!" said the dentist.

"No, sir; but for another reason." Maggie was too shy to tell what that reason was.

Since there was nothing to be done with the tooth, Mrs. Bradford put on Maggie's hat and the doctor lifted her down from the great chair.

"Mamma," she said, as they left the house, "I shall never make my dolls sick again because they went to the dentist. Why, I think he is just as nice as other gentlemen, and I felt real sorry I was so afraid of him."

While Mrs. Bradford and Maggie were gone, Bessie stood by the parlor window looking very melancholy and watching for their return. She was very much troubled about her sister, and would not play with George or listen to the story which Jane offered to tell her, or do anything but think of Maggie. Presently she saw Mr. Hall coming down the street. He stopped at the stoop, looked up and nodded, and then came up the steps. Bessie slipped down from her chair and running to the front-door, called to Patrick, who was in the hall, to open it for her. She seized her kind old friend by the hand, and said, "Mr. Hall, we have a dreadful misfortune."

Mr. Hall was quite alarmed when he saw her sad little face, but when he had asked what the misfortune was, and heard that Maggie had gone to have a tooth drawn, he was very much relieved and rather amused. He took Bessie on his knee, and after she had told him how well Maggie had behaved, talked to her for a few moments, and then, saying that it was about time for her mother and Maggie to be back, left a message for her father, and went away.

Pretty soon mamma and Maggie came in, the latter, to her sister's surprise and delight, looking very bright; and lo! there was the tooth still in her head.

"But oh, our dollar! Bessie," said Maggie. "I am so sorry!"

"Never mind," said Bessie. "Maybe we can earn it some other way. I'm so glad you didn't be hurt, Maggie, dear."

"Where is that tooth I am to pay for?" said Mr. Bradford, when he came home that afternoon.

Maggie came to him, and opening her mouth, showed her pretty rice-grain still in its place.

"Halloa!" said papa. "Did your courage give out?"

"Dr. Blake wouldn't take it out, papa; not even when I begged him. And now you wont have to pay the dollar."

"I don't know about that," said papa. "I bought the tooth, and I did not say where I should keep it. It is not quite convenient for me to take care of it just at present; perhaps you would not object to giving it lodging in its present place for a while. But it belongs to me, remember; here is the price, and you are to take care that it does not bite threads or crack nuts, or do anything else which might damage it. It is mine, now, bought and paid for;" and as papa spoke, he handed Maggie a dollar-bill. "You quite deserve it, my little girl. It was no fault of yours that you did not keep your share of the bargain, and since you did all you could, I shall keep mine."

After Maggie had hugged and kissed her father till he was half stifled,—Bessie, too, doing her share at that business,—they ran for the money-box to put away the new note. She and Bessie were trying to count over their treasure when George came by.

"Whew!" he said. "Where did you get all that? Is it yours? What are you going to do with it?"

"We are going to do a purpose with it?" said Bessie, for neither of the children cared to tell George what that purpose was.

"Oh, to buy goodies and toys is your purpose, I suppose!"

"No," said Bessie. "It is not a foolish purpose like that;" and she said no more.

They let George help them count the money, however, for they could not do it correctly themselves, then put it all back in mamma's drawer. George had followed them, and saw where they placed it.

That evening a parcel was left at the door directed to Maggie, and when it was opened, there were two new books. In one was written, "For a brave little girl who has lost a tooth, from Grandpapa Hall;" in the other, "For the sister of the brave girl."

"Will you lend me one of your new books?" asked George, as Maggie and Bessie were saying "good-night."

"We can't," said Maggie. "We must not keep them, you know, 'cause I did not have my tooth out, and Grandpapa Hall meant it for that. We are going to give them back."

"Pshaw," said George; "he'll never know I should not think of such a thing as giving them up."

"I don't believe you would," Fred whispered to Harry.

"Why, that would be doing a story," said Bessie, and she drew away from George with a shocked look. "Why, George, I'm afraid your mother don't bring you up in the way you should go."

Fred and Harry laughed, but George was angry, and would not shake hands with Bessie, when, a moment later, she bade him good-night.

But Grandpapa Hall would not take back the books; he said, as papa had done, that they were meant for the brave girl who was willing to have her tooth drawn.