eap of him and yet she's a
little afraid of him too. But I'm like you, Rosemary--I hate to
bother him just now. He's worried about that hospital case and last
night he was called out twice."

"Could we tie Shirley to a tree?" asked Rosemary hopefully.

"She's too big for that," Winnie advised her. "Sarah was only three
years old when that was tried. Shirley would untie the knots or cut
the rope or get someone to unloose her. No, we'll have to keep a
good watch on her and trust to making her see she's doing wrong. You
can reason with Shirley, if she is only six years old."

"Oh dear," sighed Rosemary, quite worn out with her experiences, "I
never knew it was so hard to bring up children!"

"Biggest job in the world," Winnie said shortly. "Mothers never rest
and their work is never done."

The next morning Rosemary coaxed Sarah to play paper dolls with
Shirley on the porch while she practised and she went to her music
with a clear conscience. For an hour the scales and trills sounded
and wound up with a grand march for good measure. Stepping out on
the porch Rosemary found it deserted, the paper dolls scattered on
the rug, the box overturned where the children had left it.

"Shirley!" cried Rosemary. "Sarah!"

"I'm cleaning the rabbit house," shouted Sarah, and Rosemary hurried
around to the side yard.

"Where's Shirley?" she demanded anxiously.

"Shirley? Isn't she on the porch?" Sarah's dirt-streaked face peered
through the wire netting which surrounded her pets.

"No, she isn't, and I'm afraid she has run away again," said
Rosemary, troubled. "How long ago did you leave her, Sarah?"

"Oh, about half an hour," replied Sarah carelessly. "She wanted to
cut out more dolls and I got her the scissors and asked her if she
minded if I came and cleaned the pens. Elinor gets sick so easily I
don't like to let the house go without cleaning it every other day."

"Bother Elinor!" said Rosemary impatiently. "Come help me look for
Shirley. Hugh is coming home for lunch--he telephoned and Winnie
answered it."

They hunted through the house, but no Shirley could be found.
Rosemary even went to two or three of the nearest neighbors, but the
small girl was not there.

"Shirley? I saw her going down the street with her express wagon,"
volunteered Ray Anderson, a four year old boy who lived a few doors
away. "She was on the other side of the street."

"If I knew where to go look for her, I would," said the worried
Rosem