white apron. Lonnie was dreadfully frightened.

"Don't tell that I did it!" cried he. "You know I didn't mean any
harm. Won't you promise not to tell?"

"Yes, I will," said Susy; but she ought not to have promised any such
thing.

"O, dear, O dear! What is to be done?"

Little black streams were trickling down the apron on to the dress.
Grace pulled Susy to the washing-stand, and Prudy thought she meant to
lift her into it, and tried to help.

"I guess this honey soap will take it out," said Susy; but with all
their washing and rinsing they could not make black white any more
than the poor negro who scoured his face.

"Stop a minute!" cried Grace. "Soap makes it worse--ma puts on milk."

"O dear! I wish we had some," said Susy; "how can we get it?"

"I'll tell you what we'll do," said Grace; "we'll send Prudy down
stairs to Bridget, to ask for some milk to drink."

"I like milk and water the best," said Prudy, "with sugar in."

"Well, get that," said Grace, "it's just as good; and come right back
with it, and don't tell about the ink."

Aunt Martha and Bridget were taking up the dinner when Prudy went down
into the kitchen, calling out,--

"O, Bridget, may I have some white tea?"

"White _tay_!" said Bridget; "and what may that be now?"

"O, some white tea, in a cup, you know, with sugar. They let me have
it every little once in a while."

"Milk and water, I suppose," said aunt Martha. "Can't you wait till
dinner, my dear?"

"But the girls _can't_ wait," replied Prudy; "they want it now."

"O, it's for the girls, is it?"

"Yes, but when they've washed the apron I can drink the rest--with
white sugar in."

"The apron!" said aunt Martha, "_what_ apron?"

"O, nothing but Susy's. I told grandma I'd be good, and I did be good;
it wasn't _me_ spilled the ink."

"Ink spilled?" cried aunt Martha, and she stopped beating the turnip.

"O, I ain't goin' to tell!" cried Prudy, beginning to tremble; "I
didn't, did I? they won't '_low_ me to tell."

Aunt Louise, passing through the kitchen, caught some of the last
words, and rushed up stairs, two steps at a time.

"O, Susy Parlin, you naughty, naughty child, what _have_ you been
into? Who spilled that ink?"

"It got tipped over," answered Susy, in a fright, but not forgetting
her promise.

"Of course it got tipped over--but not without hands, you careless
girl! Do you get your shaker, and march home as quick as ever you can!
I must go with you, I sup