I was just about to turn back when one of the number espied me and called out, "There is Susie. Come on over, Susie," and as they ran to meet me, my resistance completely collapsed.

The next thing I recall of that day, it was long towards evening. I saw Lizzie and Linda coming. At the sight of them, the enormity of my perfidy came with a rush!

The two girls made a chair with their arms on which to carry Jimmy. Nellie remained overnight with Carrie and I trailed along shamefacedly behind Linda and Lizzie. As we passed the home of a girl friend of theirs with whom they had talked on their way down, she ran out of the house and inquired, "Is that the little girl who ran away?" Oh! The shame of it! I hid my burning face, and walked guiltily on.

The only reaction I recall from Mother came the next morning when I complained of being ill and she ventured, "I wonder if that could be because you ran away yesterday." The enormity of that act weighed on my mind for sometime.

A few years after I was married, I wrote the story intending to sent it to the children's department of the Juvenile. In the meantime, a Sunday School Board member was visiting us and I read him the story. I didn't think he seemed impressed and so I didn't say anything, but just laid it aside, and thought no more about it. Then, sometime later, to my surprise it appeared in the Juvenile, illustrated. Evidently he had picked it up unbeknown to me and taken it with him. It must have come out in a 1915 issue. If I kept it, no doubt it was lost in our fire later.

83