rth while. Here,
let me show you how to cut that suet." She took the knife from Hinpoha's
hand and proceeded to demonstrate. The suet was hard, which was the
reason Hinpoha had had no success in cutting it, and the knife in Aunt
Phoebe's hand slipped and plunged into her wrist. The blood spurted high
in the air. Aunt Phoebe screamed, "I'm bleeding to death!"

Hinpoha did not scream. She took a handkerchief and calmly made a
tourniquet above the gash, twisting it tight with a lead pencil. Then
she telephoned for Dr. Josephy, Aunt Phoebe's physician. He was out.
Frantically she tried doctor after doctor, but not a single one was to
be had at once. Dr. Hoffman she knew was at the hospital. One of the
doctors she had telephoned was said to be making a call on the street
where she lived, and she ran down there but he had already left. Running
back toward the house, she collided sharply with a man on the street. It
was Dr. Hoffman, who was obligingly coming up to deliver a message from
Sahwah. "Come quickly," she cried, catching hold of his hand and
starting to run, "Aunt Phoebe will bleed to death!"

Dr. Hoffman hurried to the spot and tied up the severed artery. "Who put
on de tourniquet?" he asked.

"I did," replied Hinpoha.

"Good vork, good vork," said Dr. Hoffman approvingly, "if it had not ben
for dat it vould haf been too late ven I came."

"Where did you learn to do that?" asked Aunt Phoebe.

"Camp Fire First Aid class," replied Hinpoha.

"Humph!" said Aunt Phoebe.

But she did some thinking nevertheless, and was fully aware that it was
Hinpoha's prompt action which had saved her from bleeding to death. Her
arm was tied up for some days afterward and she was unable to use it.
Hinpoha waited on her with angelic patience. "I've changed my mind about
this Camp Fire business," said Aunt Phoebe abruptly one day. "There's
more sense to it than I thought. If you want to have meetings here I
have no objection."

Hinpoha nearly swooned, but managed to say gratefully, "Thank you, Aunt
Phoebe."

Hinpoha began to wonder, as she was thus thrown into closer contact with
her aunt, whether Aunt Phoebe's austere tastes came from her having such
a narrow nature, or because she had never known anything different. She
could not help noticing that there were woefully few friends who came to
see her during her indisposition. The daily visit of the doctor was
about the only break in the monotony. From a fierce dislike Hinpoha's