s that!" shrieked Mrs. Dorcas, rushing to the cellar door. Words
cannot describe her feeling when she saw that her nice candle-wicks,
the fruit of her day's toil, were burnt up.

If ever there was a wretched culprit that night, Ann was. She had not
meant to do wrong, but that, may be, made it worse for her in one way.
She had not even gratified malice to sustain her. Grandma blamed her,
almost as severely as Mrs. Dorcas. She said she didn't know what would
"become of a little gal, that was so keerless," and decreed that she
must stay at home from school and work on candle-wicks till Mrs.
Dorcas's loss was made good to her. Ann listened ruefully. She was
scared and sorry, but that did not seem to help matters any. She did
not want any supper, and she went to bed early and cried herself to
sleep.

Somewhere about midnight, a strange sound woke her up. She called out
to Grandma in alarm. The same sound had awakened her. "Get up, an'
light a candle, child," said she; "I'm afeard the baby's sick."

Ann scarcely had the candle lighted, before the door opened, and Mrs.
Dorcas appeared in her nightdress. She was very pale, and trembling
all over. "Oh!" she gasped, "it's the baby. Thirsey's got the croup,
an' Atherton's away, and there ain't anybody to go for the doctor. Oh,
what shall I do, what shall I do!" She fairly wrung her hands.

"Hev you tried the skunk's oil?" asked Grandma eagerly, preparing to
get up.

"Yes, I have, I have! It's a good hour since she woke up, an' I've
tried everything. It hasn't done any good. I thought I wouldn't
call you, if I could help it, but she's worse--only hear her! An'
Atherton's away! Oh! what shall I do, what shall I do?"

"Don't take on so, Dorcas," said Grandma, tremulously, but cheeringly.
"I'll come right along, an'--why, child, what air you goin' to do?"

Ann had finished dressing herself, and now she was pinning a heavy
homespun blanket over her head, as if she were preparing to go out
doors.

"I'm going after the doctor for Thirsey," said Ann, her black eyes
flashing with determination.

"Oh, will you, will you!" cried Mrs. Dorcas, catching at this new
help.

"Hush, Dorcas," said Grandma, sternly. "It's an awful storm out--jist
hear the wind blow! It ain't fit fur her to go. Her life's jist as
precious as Thirsey's."

Ann said nothing more, but she went into her own little room with the
same determined look in her eyes. There was a door leading from this
room into th