ch them to a battery so that we can turn her eyes off
and on. And we'll ride her on a broomstick in good style."

"Only, nobody must know it's Miss Leece whose being effigied," urged
Grace. "This must be merely for our own private satisfaction. Everybody
promise not to tell."

Everybody promised; so, with Anne safely in tow, they started for
Jessica's house to make the figure. Here they were not likely to be
interrupted. Jessica's mother was dead and her father spent most of his
evenings in his library.

Half a broomstick, with a small pumpkin attached to one end, formed the
framework of Miss Leece's effigy. A cross beam gave a human touch to the
shoulders and with the skeleton ready, the business of stuffing an old
ulster and hanging it over the figure was simple. Tiny electric bulbs
were placed in the eyes and a bonnet tied on the head with a green veil
floating behind. Miss Leece, Nora insisted, always wore one growing out
of her left ear. There was nothing left to do now, but to place the
figure in a legless chair that had been nailed to two poles, and the
procession was ready.

"She's a very fine lady," cried Grace, running ahead to get the effect
of the absurd lopsided figure whose eyes glared and went out
alternately. "I wish the real Miss L. could see herself now. She would
know exactly what she looks like when she glares at poor little Anne in
class."

"Yes, Anne," said David, "this shall be your party. We are going to give
you satisfaction for your wrongs in the only way that lies in our
power."

"Oh, I don't really mind her," replied Anne, "only I'm afraid she'll
catch me unprepared, some day, and then I _will_ get it in earnest."

"It's a perfect outrage," exclaimed Grace. "Miss Leece is so cruel to
little Anne, David, that it makes my blood boil. I sometimes think she
is trying to make Anne lose the freshman prize."

"The old Hessian!" cried David, who was on a sort of rampage that
evening. "What shall I do to her, Anne? Give her an electric shock?" and
he pressed the electric button rapidly up and down, which made the eyes
glare hideously and go out several times in succession.

In a town the size of Oakdale strolling parties of boys and girls, on
Hallowe'en night, made a not unusual sight, so when our young people
paraded boldly down the main street, singing and blowing horns, nothing
was thought of it. What they were doing might be considered exceedingly
out of place by a few straightlaced per