gs. Your mind, then, has
full swing.

Lying there in grandma's soft feather bed, Missy wasn't yet distracted
by daytime affairs. She dreamily regarded the patch of blue sky showing
through the window, and bits of fleecy cloud, and flying specks of
far-away birds. How wonderful to be a bird and live up in the beautiful
sky! When she died and became an angel, she could live up there! But was
she sure she'd become an angel? That reflection gradually brought her
thoughts to the events of the preceding night.

Though she could recall those events distinctly, Missy now saw them in
a different kind of way. Now she was able to look at the evening as a
whole, with herself merely a part of the whole. She regarded that sort
of detached object which was herself. That detached Missy had gone to
the meeting, and failed to find grace. Others had gone and found grace.
Even though they had acted no differently from Missy. Like her they sang
tunes; listened to the preacher; bowed the head; went forward and knelt
at the feet of Jesus; repented; went back to the pews; stood up and
testified--

Oh!

Suddenly Missy gave a little sound, and stirred. She puckered her brows
in intense concentration. Perhaps--perhaps that was why!

And then she made the Great Resolve.

Soon after breakfast, Pete appeared with a bag of candy.

"I don't deserve it," said Missy humbly.

"You bet you don't!" acquiesced Pete.

So even he recognized her state of sin! Her Great Resolve intensified.

That morning, for the first time in her life at grandma's house, Missy
shirked her "chores." She found paper and pencil, took a small Holy
Bible, and stole back to the tool-house where grandpa kept his garden
things and grandma her washtubs. For that which she now was to do, Missy
would have preferred the more beautiful summerhouse at home; but grandma
had no summerhouse, and this offered the only sure seclusion.

She stayed out there a long time, seated on an upturned washtub; read
the Holy Bible for awhile; then became absorbed in the ecstasies of
composition. So engrossed was she that she didn't at first hear grandma
calling her.

Grandma was impatiently waiting on the back porch.

"What in the world are you doing out there?" she demanded.

Loath to lie, now, Missy made a compromise with her conscience.

"I was reading the Holy Bible, grandma."

Grandma's expression softened; and all she said was:

"Well, dinner's waiting, now."

Grandpa was stayin