at's lyin', too ain't
it?"

"I, I don't believe it is right to criticize our parents," returned Nan,
dodging the sharp girl's question.

"Mebbe yourn don't need criticizin'," responded Margaret, bluntly. "My
dad ain't no angel, you kin bet."

And it was a fact that the Llewellen family was a peculiar one, from
"Gran'ther" down to Baby Bill, whom Margaret did not mind taking care
of when he was not "all broke out with the rash on his face." The girl's
dislike for any countenance that was not of the smoothest, or skin of
the softest texture, seemed strange indeed.

Margaret's mother was dead. She had five brothers and sisters of
assorted ages, up to 'Lonzo, who was sixteen and worked in the woods
like Nan's cousins.

Aunt Matilda kept house for the motherless brood, and for Gran'ther and
Mr. Fen Llewellen. They lived in a most haphazard fashion, for, although
they were not really poor, the children never seemed to have any decent
clothing to wear; and if, by chance, they got a new garment, something
always happened to it as, for instance, the taking of Margaret's new
gingham by Bob as a dress for old Beagle.

As the Llewellens were close neighbors of the Sherwoods, Nan saw much
of Margaret. The local school closed soon after the visitor had come
to Pine Camp, and Nan had little opportunity of getting acquainted
with other girls, save at the church service, which was held in the
schoolhouse only every other Sunday. There was no Sunday School at Pine
Camp, even for the very youngest of the children.

Nan talked to Aunt Kate about that. Aunt Kate was the very
kindest-hearted woman that ever lived; but she had little initiative
herself about anything outside her own house. "Goodness knows, I'd like
to see the kiddies gathered together on Sunday afternoon and taught good
things," she signed; "but lawsy, Nan! I'm not the one to do it. I'm not
good enough myself."

"Didn't you teach Tom and Rafe, and--and--" Nan stopped. She had almost
mentioned the two older boys of her aunt's, whom she had heard were
destroyed in the Pale Lick fire. Aunt Kate did not notice, for she went
on to say:

"Why--yes; I taught Tom and Rafe to say their prayers, and I hope they
say 'em now, big as they are. And we often read the Bible. It's a great
comfort, the main part of it. I never did take to the 'begats,' though."

"But couldn't we," suggested Nan, "interest other people and gather the
children together on Sundays? Perhaps the old ge