"So are mine," said Dimple. "I don't think we had better eat them all
to-night, do you? Suppose we count them and take out some for to-morrow.
One, two, three, twelve chocolates, and sixteen marshmallows. How many
have you?"
"Thirteen chocolates and fifteen marshmallows," announced Florence.
"Well, let's eat six of them, and put the rest away."
So they were carefully counted out, and the packages retied.
"Now we will undress and sit here in our nightgowns, till we've eaten
our candy," said Florence.
"Dear me," said Dimple, as the last one disappeared, "I wish we had said
seven of them."
"Suppose we do say seven."
"Well, suppose we do," and the packages were again untied and again put
up. They had hardly finished when Mrs. Dallas came in with a telegram in
her hand.
"Not in bed yet?" said she.
"No, mamma, we have been eating candy. Did you see papa put it on the
bureau?" said Dimple.
"Yes, and I have a piece of news for you. Your Uncle Heath will be here
to-morrow."
"Uncle Heath! I am so glad. Is the telegram from him?"
"Yes, it just came, and he will be here to breakfast."
"How long will he stop?"
"Not very long. Now jump into bed and be ready to get up before he
reaches here."
"Is your Uncle Heath your papa's brother?" asked Florence, when they
were in bed.
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