ully. She
was scared and sorry, but that did not seem to help matters any. She
did not want any supper, and she went to bed early and cried herself
to sleep.

Somewhere about midnight, a strange sound woke her up. She called out
to Grandma in alarm. The same sound had awakened her. "Get up, an'
light a candle, child," said she; "I'm afeard the baby's sick."

Ann scarcely had the candle lighted, before the door opened, and Mrs.
Dorcas appeared in her nightdress--she was very pale, and trembling
all over. "Oh!" she gasped, "it's the baby. Thirsey's got the croup,
an' Atherton's away, and there ain't anybody to go for the doctor. O
what shall I do, what shall I do!" She fairly wrung her hands.

"_Hev_ you tried the skunk's oil," asked Grandma eagerly, preparing
to get up.

"Yes, I have, I have! It's a good hour since she woke up, an' I've
tried everything. It hasn't done any good. I thought I wouldn't call
you, if I could help it, but she's worse--only hear her! An'
Atherton's away! Oh! what shall I do, what shall I do?"

"Don't take on so, Dorcas," said Grandma, tremulously, but
cheeringly. "I'll come right along, an'--why, child, what air you
goin' to do?"

Ann had finished dressing herself, and now she was pinning a heavy
homespun blanket over her head, as if she were preparing to go out
doors.

"I'm going after the doctor for Thirsey," said Ann, her black eyes
flashing with determination.

"Oh, will you, will you!" cried Mrs. Dorcas, catching at this new
help.

"Hush, Dorcas," said Grandma, sternly. "It's an awful storm out--jist
hear the wind blow! It ain't fit fur her to go. Her life's jist as
precious as Thirsey's."

Ann said nothing more, but she went into her own little room with the
same determined look in her eyes. There was a door leading from this
room into the kitchen. Ann slipped through it hastily, lit a lantern
which was hanging beside the kitchen chimney, and was outdoors in a
minute.

The storm was one of sharp, driving sleet, which struck her face like
so many needles. The first blast, as she stepped outside the door,
seemed to almost force her back, but her heart did not fail her. The
snow was not so very deep, but it was hard walking. There was no
pretense of a path. The doctor lived half a mile away, and there was
not a house in the whole distance, save the Meeting House and
schoolhouse. It was very dark. Lucky it was that she had taken the
lantern; she could not have found her way w