word to Mistress Brace, she
started for the home of the schoolmistress.

She never forgot the pleasure of that first afternoon at the pretty
cottage. A canary-bird was trilling songs in a cage hung out on the
porch. In the sitting-room, the old mother greeted her from her
high-backed, cushioned rocking-chair. The old dame used fine language,
and the books, pictures, and solid furniture, everything simple but
nice, seemed in a way to belong to the world that Sally herself belonged
to.

"You see you don't know just who you are," whispered her Fairy, "but do
not mind that, all may be known in good time."

But when Mistress Kent returned from her sister's, and the mother said
that Sally had been a good, likely child, and had given her a
seed-cake,--Sally was afraid to go home.

So she wandered about, ate the seed-cake for her supper, then, seeing
the gate open that led to Parson Kendall's orchard, she peeped in,
noticing a wide, rustic chair under a broad tree.

"I wonder if that might be a comfortable chair to rest in awhile,"
murmured the child, and just to try it she slipped along the green.

Yes, the back came high above her head, and as she sat wondering how she
should ever go to Slipside Row and meet Mistress Cory Ann, she slid off
to Dreamland, her pretty head drooping to one side, her rosy lips
parted.

Then as it grew later, but was still quite light, good Parson Kendall
walked out in his orchard, and in his walk stopped before the rustic
seat under the branching tree.

"What a personable child it is!" he muttered. "Some youthful wayfarer
well tired out. I wonder who she may be? I know not her countenance at
all."

When Sally opened her eyes, oh! oh! oh! there stood the parson, in black
coat, black waistcoat, black knee-breeches, black stockings, and sober
face.

Little people were much afraid of the parson in those days, and in fact
he was held in high respect, if not some fear, by people all, and Sally
would almost have fallen from the chair in fright, only that Parson
Kendall's voice was soft and kind, as he asked:

"Prithee, little one, where is thy home, and art thou very tired?"

"Speak up!" cried her Fairy, "tell the truth."

"I was afraid to go home, sir," said Sally.

"Hast thou done wrong, my child?"

"I meant not to do wrong," said Sally, "but I ran away."

"Ah, how was that? Tell me the truth about it."

And trembling in every limb, with eyes cast down, poor little Sally
stammered