ottom.

All was now terror and confusion among the children; the little ones,
who all loved Elsie dearly, began to scream and cry. Harry, Lucy,
Carry, and Mary, rushed down the path again as fast as they could, and
were soon standing pale and breathless beside the still form of their
little companion. Carry was the only one who seemed to have any presence
of mind. She sat down on the ground, and lifting Elsie's head, laid it
on her lap, untied her bonnet-strings, and loosened her dress.

"Jim," she said to the black boy, who stood blubbering by her side, "run
quickly for the doctor. And you, Harry Carrington, go for her father, as
fast as you can. Lucy, crying so won't do any good. Haven't some of you
a smelling-bottle about you?"

"Yes, yes, here, here! quick! quick! Oh, Carry, say she isn't dead!"
cried Mary Leslie, diving into her pocket and bringing out a small bottle
of smelling salts that some one had presented her as a Christmas gift.

"No, she is not dead, Mary; see, she is beginning to open her eyes,"
replied Carry, now bursting into tears herself.

But Elsie opened them only for an instant, moaned as if in great pain,
and relapsed again into insensibility, so like death that Carry shuddered
and trembled with fear.

They were not more than a quarter of a mile from the house, but it
seemed almost an age to the anxious Carry before Mr. Dinsmore came;
although it was in reality but a few moments, as Harry ran very fast,
and Mr. Dinsmore sprang into the carriage--which was at the door, some
of the party having just returned from a drive--the instant he heard the
news, calling to Harry to accompany him, and bidding the coachman drive
directly to the spot, with all speed.

The moment they were off he began questioning the boy closely as to the
cause of the accident. Harry could not tell much about it. "She had
fallen down the hill," he said, "but he did not see what made her fall."

"Was she much hurt?" Mr. Dinsmore asked, his voice trembling a little in
spite of himself.

Harry "did not know, but feared she was pretty badly injured."

"Was she insensible?"

"Yes, she was when I left," Harry said.

Mr. Dinsmore leaned back in the carriage with a groan and did not speak
again.

In another moment they had stopped, and flinging open the door, he sprang
to the ground, and hurried toward the little group, who were still
gathered about Elsie just as Harry had left them; some looking on with
pale, frightened