g things, and
the people keep saying, 'The seats they do hear us,' 'course they hear
them, 'cause they say it right at the back of the seats."

Eunice and Cricket shouted with laughter.

"She means, 'We beseech Thee to hear us,'" cried Cricket, choking, quite
as if she never made any mistakes on her own account. But other people's
mistakes are _so_ different from our own. Helen, her sensitive feelings
dreadfully hurt, instantly retired under her apron, and refused to be
comforted. They always had to be careful about laughing at Helen,
whereas Zaidee never seemed to mind.

"Never mind, pet," said Eunice, kissing and petting her. "It wasn't a
very bad mistake."

"What's this?" said Cricket, to change the subject She had been plunging
her arm down deep in the sand, and had struck something big and bony.
She cleared away the loose sand.

"That's our cemi-terror," explained Zaidee; "we'd been having a frinyal
before we had Sunday school, and we buried that thing. We finded it in
the field the other day. Let's pull it up now, Helen. We've had lots of
frinyals, Cricket, and we've buried ever so many things in our
cemi-terror. Turkles and things like that, you know."

Cricket, with some difficulty, extricated the object. It was a great
skull of a cow, bleached as white as snow.

"'Liza says it was a cow, once," observed Zaidee, poking her fingers in
the big holes where the eyes once were. "It was a pretty funny cow, _I_
think. She says it has undressed all its flesh off, and we're all like
that inside. But I'm not, see?" and Zaidee opened her mouth wide and
offered it for inspection. "Mine's all red inside."

"Mamma says we're made of dust," said Helen, thoughtfully. "If we're
made out of dust, I don't see why we don't get all muddy inside when we
drink."

"I guess that's why my hands get so dirty," said Zaidee, suddenly,
looking at her small, grimy palms with close attention. "I guess it
sifts right through my skin. Course I can't keep clean when it keeps
sifting through all the time, and 'Liza says she _don't_ see _how_ I get
myself _so_ dirty," with a funny imitation of Eliza's tones. "I'm going
to tell her I can't help it. If she keeps scrubbing me as fast as it
comes out, it may get all used up inside of me sometime," went on
Zaidee, who was nothing if not logical.

Helen thoughtfully squeezed Eunice's arm, trying to squeeze some dust
out, she said.

"Yours is all used up, I guess," she concluded, as she met