to Deacon Thomas
Wales', who had been suddenly taken very ill.

Ann would have felt sorry if she had not been so angry. Deacon Wales
was almost as much of a favorite of hers as his wife. As it was, the
principal thing she thought of, after Mr. Wales and his wife had
gone, was that _the key was in the desk_. However it had happened,
there it was. She hesitated a moment. She was all alone in the
kitchen, and her heart was in a tumult of anger, but she had learned
her lessons from the Bible and the New England Primer and she was
afraid of the _sin_. But, at last, she opened the desk, found the
indentures, and hid them in the little pocket which she wore tied
about her waist, under her petticoat.

Then she threw her blanket over her head, and got her poppet out of
the chest. The poppet was a little doll manufactured from a corn-cob,
dressed in an indigo-colored gown. Grandma had made it for her, and
it was her chief treasure. She clasped it tight to her bosom and ran
across lots to Hannah French's.

Hannah saw her coming, and met her at the door.

"I've brought you my poppet," whispered Ann, all breathless, "and you
must keep her always, and not let her work too hard. I'm going away!"

Hannah's eyes looked like two solemn moons. "Where are you going,
Ann?"

"I'm going to Boston to find my own mother." She said nothing about
the indentures to Hannah--somehow she could not.

Hannah could not say much, she was so astonished, but as soon as Ann
had gone, scudding across the fields, she went in with the poppet and
told her mother.

Deacon Thomas Wales was very sick. Mr. and Mrs. Samuel remained at
his house all night, but Ann was not left alone, for Mr. Wales had an
apprentice who slept in the house.

Ann did not sleep any that night. She got up very early, before any
one was stirring, and dressed herself in her Sunday clothes. Then she
tied up her working clothes in a bundle, crept softly down stairs,
and out doors.

It was bright moonlight and quite cold. She ran along as fast as she
could on the Boston road. Deacon Thomas Wales' house was on the way.
The windows were lit up. She thought of grandma and poor grandpa,
with a sob in her heart, but she sped along. Past the schoolhouse,
and meeting-house, too, she had to go, with big qualms of grief and
remorse. But she kept on. She was a fast traveller.

She had reached the North Precinct of Braintree by daylight. So far,
she had not encountered a single person. Now