them, they manufacture them to order, and pass them on."
"That makes me think," said Bob, laughing, "of a couple of kids I heard talking the other day, while they were looking at my engine. One of them had got Jove and Edison mixed up, and thought that Edison was responsible for thunder-storms. I butted in and tried to tell them that he was just a man like their dad, only a lot smarter; and the one who was sure, came at me with a newspaper clipping that called Edison a 'wizard.' He had looked the word up in the dictionary, so that settled the matter. There wasn't any use in trying to tell them anything, in the face of that piece of newspaper; and the last I heard, they were planning to write to Edison and ask him not to send any thunder-storms this Summer, because their little sister was afraid of them."
We all laughed. The thunder-storm had cleared the air, and when Bob left us at his corner, Bess and I walked on, in a mighty good humor. We'd got to where we could talk over that other girl without a single ugly thought. I'd been reading in the book considerably mornings and evenings, and it sort of seemed as if I'd got into the habit
