puttin' a load of coal in the cellar window with a
shovel. He's nice."

"What's he put the coal in the window for?"

"He's a colored man," said Jane.

"Shall we go talk to him now?"

"No," Jane said, thoughtfully. "Let's be playin' callers when mamma
comes to tell us to go 'way. What was your name?"

"Rannie."

"No, it wasn't."

"It is too, Rannie," the little girl insisted. "My whole name's Mary
Randolph Kirsted, but my short name's Rannie."

Jane laughed. "What a funny name!" she said. "I didn't mean your real
name; I meant your callers' name. One of us was Mrs. Jones, and one
was--"

"I want to be Mrs. Jones," said Rannie.

"Oh, my DEAR Mrs. Jones," Jane began at once, "I want to tell you
about my lovely chuldren. I have two, one only seven years old, and the
other--"

"Jane!" called Mrs. Baxter from William's window.

"Yes'm?"

"You must go somewhere else to play. Willie's trying to work at his
studies up here, and he says you've disturbed him very much."

"Yes'm."

The obedient Jane and her friend turned to go, and as they went, Miss
Mary Randolph Kirsted allowed her uplifted eyes to linger with increased
disfavor upon William, who appeared beside Mrs. Baxter at the window.

"I tell you what let's do," Rannie suggested in a lowered voice. "He got
so fresh with us, an' made your mother come, an' all, let's--let's--"

She hesitated.

"Let's what?" Jane urged her, in an eager whisper.

"Let's think up somep'n he won't like--an' DO it!"

They disappeared round a corner of the house, their heads close
together.

XXIX

"DON'T FORGET!"

Up-stairs, Mrs. Baxter moved to the door of her son's room, pretending
to be unconscious of the gaze he maintained upon her. Mustering courage
to hum a little tune and affecting inconsequence, she had nearly crossed
the threshold when he said, sternly:

"And this is all you intend to say to that child?"

"Why, yes, Willie."

"And yet I told you what she said!" he cried. "I told you I HEARD her
stand there and tell that dirty-faced little girl how that idiot boy
that's always walkin' past here four or five times a day, whistling and
looking back, was in 'love of' her! Ye gods! What kind of a person will
she grow up into if you don't punish her for havin' ideas like that at
her age?"

Mrs. Baxter regarded him mildly, not replying, and he went on, with loud
indignation:

"I never heard of such a thing! That Worm walkin' past here four or five
ti