wful girl!" cried Dotty, her eyes flashing.

"She had a fiery temper, my child, and had never learned to control it."

Dotty looked at her feet in silence.

"The baby was afraid of his little nurse; but he could not speak to tell
how he was abused; all he could do was to cry when he was left with
Harriet. But one day Mrs. Gray was obliged to go away to see her sick
mother. She charged Harriet to take good care of little Freddy, and give
him some baked apples and milk if he was hungry."

"With bread in?" suggested Dotty.

"Yes, I suppose so. Then she kissed her baby. He put his arms around her
neck, and cried to go too; but she could not take him."

"I s'pose he cried 'cause he 'xpected that awful girl was a-going to
shake him," said Dotty, indignantly.

"I cannot tell you precisely what Harriet did to him; but when the
father and mother got home, that darling boy was moaning in great pain.
They sent for the doctor, who said his spine was injured, and perhaps he
would never walk again; and, indeed, he never did."

"O, mamma! mamma Parlin!"

"Yes, my child; and it is supposed that Harriet must have hurt him in
one of her fits of rage."

Dotty's face had grown very white.

"O, mamma, what did the folks do with Harriet?"

"They took her to court, and tried her for abusing the little boy. They
could not prove that she was really guilty, though everybody believed
she was."

"I know what 'guilty' means, mamma; it means _hung_."

"No, dear; if she hurt the baby she was guilty, whether she was punished
for it or not."

"Well, she did it, I just know she did it!" exclaimed Dotty, greatly
excited. "That little tinty boy!"

"The judge pitied her for her youth and ignorance; so did the twelve men
called the 'jury;' and she was allowed to go free."

"Then did she 'buse somebody's else's baby, mamma?"

"I hope not. The last I heard of her she was married to a negro
fiddler."

"O!"

"Do you know why I have told you this sad story, my little daughter?"

"'Cause, 'cause--Harriet beat her head against the door, and hurt a
baby, and--and--married black folks!"

Dotty was very pale, and there was a tear in her voice; still her mother
could not be sure that her words had made much impression. She was
afraid her long story had been "love's labor lost."

But I believe it had not been. Not entirely, at least. Dotty thought of
Harriet all the afternoon, and walked about the house with a demureness
quite unusual.