nd there the farmer hastily hid Matty, dropping her
down into the dim nook, round the mouth of which young shoots had grown,
so that no one would have suspected any hole was there.

'Lie still, child, till I come; say your prayers and wait for father,'
said the man, as he parted the leaves for a last glance at the small,
frightened face looking up at him.

'Come soon,' whispered Matty, and tried to smile bravely, as a stout
settler's girl should.

"Mr. Kilburn went away, and was taken prisoner in the fight, carried off,
and for years no one knew if he was alive or dead. People missed Matty,
but supposed she was with her father, and never expected to see her
again. A great while afterward the poor man came back, having escaped
and made his way through the wilderness to his old home. His first
question was for Matty, but no one had seen her; and when he told where
he had left her, they shook their heads as if they thought he was crazy.
But they went to look, that he might be satisfied; and he was; for there
they found some little bones, some faded bits of cloth, and two rusty
silver buckles marked with Matty's name in what had once been her shoes.
An Indian arrow lay there, too, showing why she had never cried for
help, but waited patiently so long for father to come and find her."

If Miss Celia expected to see the last bit of hem done when her story
ended, she was disappointed; for not a dozen stitches had been taken.
Betty was using her crash-towel for a handkerchief, and Bab's lay on the
ground as she listened with snapping eyes to the little tragedy.

"Is it true?" asked Betty, hoping to find relief in being told that it
was not.

"Yes; I have seen the tree, and the mound where the fort was, and the
rusty buckles in an old farm-house where other Kilburns live, near the
spot where it all happened," answered Miss Celia, looking out the
picture of Victoria to console her auditors.

"We'll play that in the old apple-tree. Betty can scrooch down, and I'll
be the father, and put leaves on her, and then I'll be a great Injun and
fire at her. I can make arrows, and it will be fun, wont it?" cried Bab,
charmed with the new drama in which she could act the leading parts.

"No, it wont! I don't like to go in a cobwebby hole, and have you play
kill me. I'll make a nice fort of hay, and be all safe, and you can put
Dinah down there for Matty. I don't love her any more, now her last eye
has tumbled out, and you may shoot h