in my body was broken."

While Debby sewed, the bright sunlight on the green field of wheat and
the brown, ridged field of corn-stubble visible through the one large
window, had faded quickly away; and as she paused a moment to pick some
shreds off her dress and glance out at the weather, all she could see
was the dim outline of the woods, the dark forms of the hills rising
behind them, and the cold, black wind-clouds piled high above them all.

Tea was ready and over at last, and then Mrs. Blanchard said, while she
tried to quiet the screaming baby:

"Go and get ready for the Fair, child, and I will wash the dishes. I
have a dreadful sideache, and I expect this young one will cry for an
hour or two. But 'every dog must have his day,' and yours will be short
enough."

With the cloud on her heart that always followed her mother's gloomy
sayings, Debby went slowly up to her room to array herself in her last
year's blue merino. But it was a pleasant figure to look upon that she
tiptoed up to the glass to survey, and a round rosy face, with a little
frown over the right eyebrow, that looked out at her with wistful eyes.

Drawing on hood and shawl, she went down-stairs and stood before her
father with the money in her hand. He was seated at the table, bending
over a large account-book, with Debby's frown deepened at the corner of
his bushy eyebrow, and his fingers in his ears to shut out the baby's
cries that reached him from the bedroom. As soon as she caught sight of
what he was doing, Debby's hopes fell, for reckoning up the yearly
expenses always made him cross for a week.

"Where are you off to now?" he asked, glancing up at her.

"To the Fair. The boys are there to come home with me. And here," her
voice faltering, "is the change from the school-books."

"Don't stay late," he replied, turning away and dropping the precious
money into his vest-pocket.

With a bursting heart, Debby stumbled out into the windy starlight and
walked rapidly along the rough road, with her mittened fingers in her
mouth to prevent her crying aloud.

How bitterly she wished she had never heard of the Fair! She was ashamed
to go back into the house with no reason for returning, yet the thought
of attending the Fair with no money to spend was torturing to her.

"There's Debby! Merry Christmas! Ride with us! Jump in, Debby!" called
several voices, as a wagon full of boys and girls stopped beside her.

"I don't want to; I'd rather walk