, and realizing the child's unselfish
love. "When is Mrs. Grinnell to take your big melons away?"

"Tomorrow," she said. "The Fair begins Monday, you know."

"Then you better go say good-bye to them now," teased Faith. "It is
nearly supper time, and you will hardly have a chance in the morning."

But Peace shook her head, declaring seriously, "There will be time
enough. And if the melons don't win a prize, we'll bring them back home,
Mrs. Grinnell says."

When the morning dawned, however, and Peace ran eagerly down to visit
her garden, she stopped in dismay at the sight which greeted her eyes.
On the ground, strewn all over the patch, were broken, battered
melon-rinds; and the two mammoth balls were gone.

"Oh, my darlings! my precious melons!" she cried in grief. "Someone has
eaten them all up!" Throwing herself flat amid the wreck, she sobbed as
if her heart would break, so overwhelmed by her loss that it never
occurred to her to report the disaster to the rest of the family. It was
too cruel!

When the hot tears had relieved the little heart somewhat, she sat up
and looked about her once more, saying, with quivering lips, "I don't
s'pose they would have won a prize anyway, but it was hatefully mean of
whoever took them. I'll bet Mike O'Hara did it to get even with me for
selling the others to the city folks and keeping all the money myself!
I'm going straight over and tell him what a nice kind of a gentleman he
is."

She bounced to her feet, started swiftly across the patch, caught her
toe in a tough vine and fell sprawling on the ground again, rapping her
head smartly on a small, unripe melon at the edge of the field. "Mercy!
you're a hard-shelled old sinner!" she exclaimed, rubbing her bruised
forehead and glaring at the offending fruit. "Well, no wonder! I hit a
knife, as sure as you're alive! It ain't Mike's either. It's--Hector
Abbott's! Why didn't I think of him before? Of course he is the
_culvert_; but I'll bet he will wish he hadn't seen those melons when I
get through with him."

Burning with indignation, she sped away to the village, never pausing
until the Judge's house was reached. As she approached the place she
could see the family gathered around the breakfast table, set on the
wide, screened porch; and forgetting to knock, she threw open the door
and rushed in as if on the wings of the wind. Straight to Hector's chair
she stalked, and before the surprised family could recover their breath,