ation of his followers. Perhaps some of the more daring are
engaged in one of the numerous singing plays, such as "Oh, la, Miss
Brown," or "Swing Candy, Two and Two," but these are generally frowned
upon: they are too much like dancing, and time has been when some too
adventurous church-member has been "churched" for engaging in one.

In such a merrymaking was the community which surrounded the high school
at Dexter engaged when the incident occurred which opened Fred's eyes
to his own state. Both he and Elizabeth had been in the prize ranks that
year, and their friends had turned out in full and made much of them.
Even Eliphalet Hodges was there, with old Bess festooned as gaily as the
other horses, and both Miss Prime and Mr. Simpson were in evidence. The
afternoon of the day was somewhat advanced, the dinner had been long
over, and the weariness of the people had cast something of a quietus
over the hilarity of their sports. They were sitting about in groups,
chatting and laughing, while the tireless children were scurrying about
in games of "tag," "catcher," and "hide-and-seek."

The grove where the festivities were being held was on a hill-side which
sloped gently to the bank of a small, narrow stream, usually dry in
summer; but now, still feeling the force of the spring freshets, and
swollen by the rain of the day before, it was rushing along at a rapid
rate. A fence divided the picnic-ground proper from the sharper slope of
the rivulet's bank. This fence the young people had been warned not to
pass, and so no danger was apprehended on account of the stream's
overflowing condition. But the youngsters at Dexter were no more
obedient than others of their age elsewhere. So when a scream arose from
several childish voices at the lower part of the hill, everybody knew
that some child had been disobeying, and, pell-mell, the picnickers
rushed in the direction of the branch.

When they reached the nearest point from which they could see the
stream, a terrifying sight met their eyes. A girl was struggling in the
shallow but swift water. She had evidently stepped on the sloping bank
and fallen in. Her young companions were running alongside the rivulet,
stretching out their hands helplessly to her, but the current was too
strong, and, try as she would, she could not keep her feet. A cry of
grief and despair went up from the girls on the bank, as she made one
final effort and then fell and was carried down by the current.