aid; "for I'm sure I don't, either. Marjorie, you _must_ have known you
were doing wrong when you began that performance. Now, listen! If
somebody had told you of another little girl who cut up just such a
prank, what would you have said?"

"I'd have said she ought to know better than to fool with ink, anyway.
It's the most get-all-overy stuff."

"Well, why did you fool with it, then?"

"Well, you see, Mother, I did know it was awful messy, but that know was
in the back of my head, and somehow it slipped away from my memory when
the thought that I wanted a witch hat came and pushed it out."

"Now, you're trying to be funny, and I want you to talk sensibly."

"Yes'm, I am sensible. Honest, the thought about the witch hat was so
quick it pushed everything else out of my mind."

"Even your sense of duty, and your determination to be a good little
girl."

"Yes'm; they all flew away, and my whole head was full of how to make
the white paper black. And that was the only way I could think of."

"Well, have your thoughts that were pushed out come back yet?"

"Oh, yes, Mother; they came back as soon as I found myself all inky."

"Then, if they've come back, you know you did wrong?"

"Yes, I do know it now."

"And you know that little girls who do wrong have to be punished?"

"Ye-es; I s'pose I know that. How are you going to punish me?"

"We must discuss that. _I_ think you deserve a rather severe punishment,
for this was really, truly mischief. What do you think of staying home
from Gladys' Hallowe'en party as a punishment?"

"Oh, Moth-er May-nard! You just _can't_ mean _that_!"

"I'm not sure but I do. You _must_ learn, somehow, Midget, that if you
do these awful things, you must have awful punishments."

"Yes, but to stay home from Gladys' party! Why, those horrid, cruel
people in the history book couldn't get up a worse punishment than that!
Mother, say you don't mean it!"

"I won't decide just now; I'll think it over. Meantime, let's see what
we can do toward cleaning you up."

The process was an uncomfortable one, and, after Marjorie's poor little
face and hands had gone through a course of lemon juice, pumice stone,
and other ineffectual obliterators, she felt as if she had had
punishment enough.

And the final result was a grayish, smeared-looking complexion, very
different from her own usual healthy pink and white.

Greatly subdued, and fearful of the impending punishment, Marjorie lay
on a couc