away to make a poultice, she crept into the nursery, and put on
Horace's straw hat. Then she took from a corner an old cane of her
grandfather's, and from the paper-rack a daily newspaper, and started
out in great glee. The "Journal" she hugged to her heart, and her
short dress she held up to her waist, "'Cause I s'pect I mus' keep it
out o' the mud," said she, as anxiously as any lady with a train.

She had no trouble in finding the church, for the road was straight,
but the cane kept tripping her up.

"Naughty fing! Wisht I hadn't took you, to-day, you act so bad!" said
she, picking herself up for the fifth time, and slinging the "naughty
fing" across her shoulder like a gun. When she came to the
meeting-house there was not a soul to be seen. "Guess they's eatin'
dinner in here," decided Flyaway, after looking about for a few
seconds. "Guess I'll go up chamer, see where the folks is."

[Illustration: RUNNING AWAY TO CHURCH.]

Up stairs she clattered, hitting the balusters with her cane. Good Mr.
Lee was preaching from the text, "Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it
holy," and people could not imagine who was naughty enough to make
such a noise outside--thump, thump, thump.

"Who's that a-talkin'?" thought Flyaway, startled by Mr. Lee's voice.
"O, ho! that's the _prayer-man_ a-talkin'. He makes me kind o'
'fraid!"

But just at that minute she had reached the top of the stairs, and was
standing in the doorway.

"O, my shole! so _many_ folks!"

She trembled, and was about to run away with her newspaper and cane;
but her eyes, in roving wildly about, fell upon grandpa Parlin and all
the rest of them, in a pew very near the pulpit. Then she thought it
must be all right, and, taking courage, she marched slowly up the
aisle, swinging the cane right and left.

Everybody looked up in surprise as the droll little figure crept by.
Grandpa frowned through his spectacles, and aunt Louise shook her
head; but Horace hid his face in a hymn-book and Dotty Dimple actually
smiled.

"They didn't know _I_ was a-comin'," thought Flyaway, "but I camed!"

And with that she fluttered into the pew.

"Naughty, naughty girl," said aunt Louise, in an awful whisper.

She longed to take up the morsel of naughtiness, called Katie, in her
thumb and finger, shake it, and carry it out. But there was a twinkle
in the little one's eye that might mean mischief; she did not dare
touch her.

"O, what a child!" said aunt Louise, taking off