ot tired, or had worries of our
own to bear.

Our small troubles, however, were soon forgotten, when we could slip
away for a while to the lovely playhouse which Leanna had secretly made
for us in an excavation in the back yard. There we forgot work, used
our own language, and played we were like other children; for we owned
the beautiful cupboard dug in the wall, and the pieces of Delft and
broken glass set in rows upon the shelves, also the furniture, made of
stumps and blocks of wood, and the two bottles standing behind the
brush barricade to act as sentries in case of danger during our
absence.

One stolen visit to that playhouse led me into such disgrace, that
grandma did not speak to me the rest of the day, and told Jakie all
about it.

In the evening, when no one else was near, he called me to him. I
obeyed with downcast head. Putting his hand under my chin, and turning
my face up, he made me look straight into his eyes, as he asked,

"Who broke dat glass cup vat grandma left on die dinner table full of
milk, and telled you watch it bis Hendrik come to his dinner, or bis
she be done mit her nap?"

I tried to turn my eyes down, but he would not let me, and I faltered,
"The chicken knocked it off,--but he left the door open so it could get
in."

Then, he raised his other hand, shook his finger, and in awe-inspiring
tone continued: "Yes, I be sure die chicken do dat, but vot for you
tell grandma dat Heinrick do dat? Der debil makes peoples tell lies,
and den he ketch sie for his fire, und he vill ketch you, if you do dat
some more. Gott, who you mutter telled you 'bout, will not love you. I
will not love you, if you do dat some more. I be sorry for you, because
I tought you vas His little girl, and mine little girl."

Jakie must have spent much time in collecting so many English words,
and they were effective, for before he got through repeating them to
me, I was as heart-sore and penitent as a child could be.

After he had forgiven me, he sent me to grandma, later to acknowledge
my wrong to Hendrik, and before I slept, I had to tell God what a bad
child I had been, and ask Him to make me good.

I had promised to be very careful and to try never to tell another lie,
and I had been unhappy enough to want to keep the promise. But, alas,
my sympathy for Jakie led me into more trouble, and it must have been
on Sunday too, for he was not working, but sitting reverently under the
tree with his elbows upon a ta