's anxiety,
and so had to put off the narration till after my departure.

I went home about as fast as possible; desired to go to bed
immediately--never went before without being sent, and then not in a
very good mood. My mother followed me with a talk of "herb tea," and as
I thought I must have some "end to the farce," I agreed that a little
might do me good. My mother consequently brought me, I do believe, a
"Scripture measure" pint of bitter tea, which I hurriedly drank, as I
knew my sisters had already started for my grandmother's, to see how I
had been through the afternoon. When they returned, though I heard the
laughing and talking in the sitting-room below, I was, to all intents
and purposes, sound asleep and snoring.

No allusion was ever made to my demeanor. I went to school as usual,
and told the school-girls that I had had such a good time at my aunt's
the day before that I would never go there again "as long as I lived."

My grandmother and aunt died long ago. For years I had no reason to
believe that my afternoon's tragedy was known to any one. But once, not
long since, speaking of that clock, I said, "I'm glad it did not descend
to me;" when a friend replied, with a very knowing look, "So is your
grandmother!"

NAUGHTY ZAY.

[Illustration]

Once upon a time there was a dear little naughty girl, not _bad_, she
would not have been so dear had she been really bad, but just naughty
sometimes, and I must confess "sometimes" came pretty often. She had all
sorts of loving scolding names, such as "precious torment," "darling
bother," and she kept her poor dear grandmother on a continuous trot to
see what mischief she was in, and frightened her mother (who thought
everybody must want to steal Zay) by hiding behind the Missouri currant
bush until every nook and corner had been searched; and she made her
uncle shake his head gravely because she never could get beyond the
first question in the Catechism, "what is your name?" and even then
would answer _Zay_, although he had told her that "that was not her name
at all; she had been baptized Salome; and Zay was a name she had no
right to whatever." Nor can I begin to tell you the times I have
exhausted all my strength putting her sturdy little self into the
closet, and then standing first on one foot, then on the other, until I
was ready to drop, listening at the keyhole for the first small sob of
repentance.

Things had gone wrong with our naughty l