white cloth with
a face painted on it, and head of hair made of what used to be called
a "false front." This delightful doll was quite a wonder in those
days. It had a wardrobe as well made as Helen's own, including
stockings and shoes, and could be dressed and undressed and combed and
brushed to her heart's content.

Well, one morning,--a rainy Saturday, as I said,--the two girls were
very busy with the big family of dolls. They were playing that the wax
doll was sick and they were Doctor and Nurse. Many tiny beads--called
pills--and several drops from a bottle out of the family medicine case
had been thrust between the teeth of this unlucky creature, when the
thought struck Helen that a living patient would be more fun than a
doll. So she hunted up a half-grown kitten that belonged to her little
brother Robbie.

The kitten was dressed for her part in a white towel pinned around
her and a pointed cap of paper on her head. Very droll she looked, but
she was not so easy to manage as the doll. Beads she refused to
swallow, but thrust them out on her small pink tongue, and she
struggled violently when a drop of the medicine was given to her. In
fact, her struggles made Helen's arm joggle, and sent more down her
throat than she meant to give her.

Finally, the kitten struggled and fought so violently that they let
her go, when she ran quickly down the stairs, and hid where they could
not find her.

The next morning the kitten was missing, to Robbie's great grief. The
house was searched in vain, and the two girls began to fear that
medicine was not good for her.

Feeling very guilty, they hunted everywhere on the place, and at last
found the poor little dead body behind a box in the cellar, where she
had crept to die.

The girls were horrified to think their play had killed her. They felt
like murderers, and stole out into the arbor to think and plan what
they should do. They dared not confess; they feared some sort of
punishment for their crime, and they knew it would make Robbie very
unhappy.

After much talk, they decided to dispose of the body secretly and not
tell any one of their part in the sad business. But how to do it was
the question that troubled them. They dared not bury it, for fresh
digging in that small city yard would arouse suspicion at once. Bessie
suggested that they should carry it far off in the night and throw it
away. This plan seemed the best they could think of, till Helen said
they woul