e blackest of black eyes and hair, the latter hanging straight over
her face and ears. The eyes of both fastened upon their strange
visitors, and seemed as if they would move no more.

"Them girls is come to get you to their Sunday-School," said the
mother. "Don't you want for to go?"

No answer, and no move of the black eyes. Matilda certainly thought
they looked as if they feared the lifting of no mortal hand, their
mother's or any other.

"Would you like to go to Sunday-School?" inquired Maria politely,
driven to speak by the necessities of the silence. But she might as
well have asked Mrs. Dow's wash-tub. The mother laughed a little to
herself.

"Guess you might as well go along back the road ye come!" she said.
"You won't get my Araminty Jemimy into no Sunday-School o' yourn this
time. Maybe when she's growed older and wiser-like, she'll come and see
you. She don' know what a Sunday-School's like. She thinks it's some
sort of a trap."

"I ain't afraid!" spoke out black eyes.

"I didn't say you was," said her mother. "I might ha' said you was
cunnin' enough to keep your foot out of it."

"It is not a trap," said Matilda, boldly. "It is a pleasant place,
where we sing, and learn nice things."

"My children don't want to learn none o' your nice things," said the
woman. "I can teach 'em to home."

"But you don't!" said black eyes. "You don't _never_ learn us
_nothing!_"

There was not the slightest sweet desire of learning evidenced in this
speech. It breathed nothing but defiance.

"Alexander, won't _you_ come?" said Matilda, timidly, as her sister
moved to the door. For Maria's courage gave out. But at that question
the young urchin addressed set up a roar of hoarse laughter, throwing
himself down and rolling over on the floor. His mother shoved him out
of her way with a push that was very like a kick, and his sister,
seizing a wringing wet piece of clothes from the wash-tub, dropped it
spitefully on his head. There was promise of a fight; and Matilda and
Maria hurried out. They hastened their steps through the garden, and
even out in the high road they ran a little to get away from Mrs. Dow's
neighbourhood.

"Well!" said Maria, "what do you think now, Tilly? I hope you have got
enough for once of this kind of thing. I promise you I have."

"Hush!" said Matilda. "Some one is calling."

They stopped and turned. A shout was certainly sent after them from the
gate they had quitted--"Girls, hollo!--Sun