stack of brushes. I--I'm going--to tell--him what I think of him in red
paint. Yes, sir, I'm going to do it this very minute!"

All thought of the mysterious visitor at home had vanished, all thought
of the consequences were stifled, and choosing the smallest brush in the
heap beside the pail, she began daubing scrawly, tipsy letters across
the new, white boards: _Mister Hardman isnt square_.

"There!" she breathed, as the last straggling "r" was finished. "I'll
bet that makes him mad, but maybe next time he won't blame me for his
old fusses. He _said_ I could have those raspberries."

She dipped the brush into the paint once more, made a few little red
spots below the printed letters, and labelled them _raspberries_ for
fear they might not otherwise be recognized. Then dropping the brush
back where she had found it, she skipped off home, feeling an
uncomfortable sense of guilt and shame in her heart for having wreaked
her revenge in such a manner.

At the gate Allee met her, shouting, "Mrs. Strong is here with the baby,
and she's going to stay for supper. Elva Munson brought her in their new
buggy. Come see Glen. We've hunted all over for you, and even blew the
horn."

The excited child danced up the path, and Peace followed, forgetting her
mean prank in her pleasure at seeing her beloved friends. Nor did she
remember any more about it until the next morning, when, seated on the
shed-roof, under the overhanging boughs of a great elm, she saw Mr.
Hartman striding angrily up the path to the kitchen door. Then her heart
gave a great thump and seemed to sink clear to her toes, as she thought
of her miserable method of getting even. Her passion had subsided during
the night, and try as she would, she could now think of no justifiable
excuse for her mean act.

Gail answered the imperative knock, and Peace heard him demand
wrathfully, "Where is Peace?"

"Somewhere around the place. She was under the maple there at the
corner a few moments ago. Is something wrong? Has she been annoying you
again?"

"Annoying me? She has daubed letters all over the back of my new barn. I
shall have to paint the whole building now, and it isn't very funny
business. If I had got hold of her when I first saw her work, I'd have
given her a thrashing she wouldn't have forgotten in one while. You will
whip that child like she deserves, or pay for the damage she has
done,--one or the other, and I mean it, too!" Without waiting for her
repl