y tumbled head foremost down his
father's well.

Kate and I screamed simultaneously. We tore across the kitchen, flung
open the door, plunged down over Aunt Susanna's yard, scrambled over
the fence and flew to the well. Just as we reached it, Tony's red head
appeared as he climbed serenely out over the box. I don't know whether
I felt more relieved or furious. He had merely fallen on the blank
guard inside the box: and there are times when I am tempted to think
he fell on purpose because he saw Kate and me looking out at the
window. At least he didn't seem at all frightened, and grinned most
impishly at us.

Kate and I turned on our heels and marched back in as dignified a
manner as was possible under the circumstances. Half way up Aunt
Susanna's yard we forgot dignity and broke into a run. We had left the
door open and the McGinnis dog had disappeared.

Never shall I forget the sight we saw or the smell we smelled when we
burst into that kitchen. There on the floor was the McGinnis dog and
what was left of Aunt Susanna's Thanksgiving turkey. As for the smell,
imagine a commingled odor of scorching turnips and burning mince pies,
and you have it.

The dog fled out with a guilty yelp. I groaned and snatched the
turnips off. Kate threw open the oven door and dragged out the pies.
Pies and turnips were ruined as irretrievably as the turkey.

"Oh, what shall we do?" I cried miserably. I knew Margaret's chance of
college was gone forever.

"Do!" Kate was superb. She didn't lose her wits for a second. "We'll
go home and borrow the girls' dinner. Quick--there's just ten minutes
before train time. Throw those pies and turnips into this basket--the
turkey too--we'll carry them with us to hide them."

I might not be able to evolve an idea like that on the spur of the
moment, but I can at least act up to it when it is presented. Without
a moment's delay we shut the door and ran. As we went I saw the
McGinnis dog licking his chops over in their yard. I have been ashamed
ever since of my feelings toward that dog. They were murderous.
Fortunately I had no time to indulge them.

It is ten minutes walk from the Pinery to our house, but you can run
it in five. Kate and I burst into the kitchen just as Laura and
Margaret were sitting down to dinner. We had neither time nor breath
for explanations. Without a word I grasped the turkey platter and the
turnip tureen. Kate caught one hot mince pie from the oven and whisked
a cold o