delight at the unwonted stir, and anxious not to lose
a minute of it. She thought some one else might go for the cows that
night. She cried and sulked, but there was no help for it. Go she had
to. So she tucked up her gown--it was her best Sunday one--took her
stick, and trudged along. When she came to the pasture, there were her
master's cows waiting at the bars. So were Neighbor Belcher's cows
also, in the adjoining pasture. Ann had her hand on the topmost of her
own bars, when she happened to glance over at Neighbor Belcher's, and
a thought struck her. She burst into a peal of laughter, and took a
step towards the other bars. Then she went back to her own. Finally,
she let down the Belcher bars, and the Belcher cows crowded out, to
the great astonishment of the Wales cows, who stared over their high
rails and mooed uneasily.

Ann drove the Belcher cows home and ushered them into Samuel Wales'
barnyard with speed. Then she went demurely into the house. The table
looked beautiful. Ann was beginning to quake inwardly, though she
still was hugging herself, so to speak, in secret enjoyment of her
own mischief. She had one hope--that supper would be eaten before her
master milked. But the hope was vain. When she saw Mr. Wales come in,
glance her way, and then call his wife out, she knew at once what had
happened, and begun to tremble--she knew perfectly what Mr. Wales was
saying out there. It was this: "That little limb has driven home all
Neighbor Belcher's cows instead of ours; what's going to be done with
her?"

She knew what the answer would be, too. Mrs. Polly was a peremptory
woman.

Back Ann had to go with the Belcher cows, fasten them safely in their
pasture again, and drive her master's home. She was hustled off to
bed, then, without any of that beautiful supper. But she had just
crept into her bed in the small unfinished room upstairs where she
slept, and was lying there sobbing, when she heard a slow, fumbling
step on the stairs. Then the door opened, and Mrs. Deacon Thomas
Wales, Samuel Wales' mother, came in. She was a good old lady, and had
always taken a great fancy to her son's bound girl; and Ann, on her
part, minded her better than any one else. She hid her face in the tow
sheet, when she saw grandma. The old lady had on a long black silk
apron. She held something concealed under it, when she came in.
Presently she displayed it.

"There--child," said she, "here's a piece of sweet cake and a couple
o