after that, as long as she was in sight of the Kentucky
woods. She could not be convinced that all sorts of ravenous beasts were
not lurking in their shadows, and would not have been surprised at any
time to have met a live Indian in war-paint and feathers.

Eugenia's frenzied wail became a byword, and for many days one had only
to say, "Oh, _don't_ eat me!" to start a peal of laughter.

CHAPTER XI.

SOME STORIES AND A POEM.

"What is the worst thing you evah did in yo' life, Joyce?" asked the
Little Colonel. It was the first day after their recovery from the
measles that the girls had been allowed to go down-stairs, and they were
trying to amuse themselves in the library. Time had dragged for the last
half-hour, and Lloyd's question was welcomed with interest.

"Um, I don't know," answered Joyce, half closing her eyes as she tried
to remember. "I've done so many bad things that I have been ashamed of
afterward, that I can hardly tell which is the worst. One of the meanest
things I ever did was when I was too small to know how cruel it was. It
was so long ago that I could not talk plainly, but I remember distinctly
what a stifling hot day it was. Mamma had been packing her furs away for
the summer in moth-balls. You know how horridly those camphor things
smell. I hung over her and asked questions every time she moved. She
told me how the moth-millers lay eggs in the furs if they are not
protected, and showed me an old muff that she had found in the attic,
which was so badly moth-eaten that it had to be thrown away. I watched
her lay the little balls all among the furs, and then tie them up in
linen bags, and pack them away in a chest.

"It happened that I had an old cat named Muff, and as soon as mamma had
gone down-stairs, I took it into my head to pack her away in camphor
balls. So I put her into an old pillow-case with a handful of
suffocating moth-balls, and tied her up tight. She mewed and scratched
at a terrible rate, but I tugged away at the heavy lid of the chest
until I got it open, and then pop went poor old Muff in with the other
furs.

"Luckily, mamma found an astrakhan cape, several hours later, that she
had overlooked, and went back to the attic to put it into the chest, or
the poor cat would have smothered. When she raised the lid there was
that pillow-case squirming around as if it were alive. It frightened her
so that she jumped back and dropped the lid, and then stood screaming
for Bri