of fire," she cried, as she snatched her hand from
the window-sill. She climbed out of the window upon the porch, and
looked anxiously up and down the road. Nothing was to be seen save the
long stretch of empty turnpike, with the hot sun beating down upon it.
As she turned to go back inside the window, she stopped, horrified. On
the cornice of the roof above her a glowing ember was smoldering
dangerously. 'Mazin' Grace wrung her hands.

"Mammy said I was gwine to git burned up fer bein' so wicked. An' Marse
Jim's house, what's belonged to we-all sence de wah! An' de settin'-room
where we hangs up our stockin's ebery Christmas! An' dere ain't nobody
to take keer ob it all but me! Oh, Lordy! Lordy! what mus' I do?--what
mus' I do?"

As she stood there, wild-eyed and tearful, a thought made its way
through the kinky hair into her bewildered brain. She darted back into
the house, and reappeared with a broom.

"I'se gwine up dat ladder," she said with grim determination, "an' I'se
gwine to sweep dem sparks off. An' effen I can't sweep 'em off I kin
spank 'em out."

The fire at the barn was now raging; great volumes of smoke swept toward
the house, heavily laden with live embers. 'Mazin' Grace, choking and
frightened, wielded her broom with telling effect; no sooner did a spark
touch the roof than it was brushed off into the long grass below. But
they were coming faster and faster, and, watch as she would, she could
not keep some of them from igniting the dry shingles. From side to side
she scrambled, sweeping, beating, fighting the fire with all the
strength in her little body. Her eyes smarted fiercely, her feet were
bruised, the heat was suffocating; but 'Mazin' Grace never thought of
deserting the post: she worked, as she had danced, with all her might
and main, pitting her puny strength valiantly against that of the
flames.

[Illustration: "FROM SIDE TO SIDE SHE SCRAMBLED, SWEEPING, BEATING, AND
FIGHTING THE FIRE."]

But courage does not always bring success. Just when the fire at the
barn began to subside, and the sparks ceased to fall on the roof, a tiny
column of smoke began to curl up from the gabled roof of the porch.
'Mazin' Grace clambered down the ladder, and, sitting astride of the
angle, worked her way outward toward the fire. She could not carry the
broom, but if she could only reach the blaze perhaps she could beat it
out with her hands! Excitement gave her fresh strength. On either side
the roof slop