iliar voice.
There was no mistaking it.--It was Sarah Walker's. But it was not
lifted in lamentation, it was raised only as if resuming a suspended
narrative.

"Her name," said Sarah Walker gloomily, "was Kribbles. She was the
only child--of--of orphaned parentage, and fair to see, but she was
bad, and God did not love her. And one day she was separated from her
nurse on a desert island like to this. And then came a hidgeous
thunderstorm. And a great big thunderbolt came galumping after her.
And it ketched her and rolled all over her--so! and then it came back
and ketched her and rolled her over--so! And when they came to pick
her up there was not so much as THAT left of her. All burnt up!"

"Wasn't there just a little bit of her shoe?" suggested a cautious
auditor.

"Not a bit," said Sarah Walker firmly. All the other children echoed
"Not a bit," indignantly, in evident gratification at the completeness
of Kribbles' catastrophe. At this moment the surrounding darkness was
suddenly filled with a burst of blue celestial fire; the heavy inky sea
beyond, the black-edged mourning horizon, the gleaming sands, each nook
and corner of the dripping cave, with the frightened faces of the
huddled group of children, started into vivid life for an instant, and
then fell back with a deafening crash into the darkness.

There was a slight sound of whimpering. Sarah Walker apparently
pounced upon the culprit, for it ceased.

"Sniffling 'tracts 'lectricity," she said sententiously.

"But you thaid it wath Dod!" lisped a casuist of seven.

"It's all the same," said Sarah sharply, "and so's asking questions."

This obscure statement was however apparently understood, for the
casuist lapsed into silent security. "Lots of things 'tracts it,"
continued Sarah Walker. "Gold and silver, and metals and knives and
rings."

"And pennies?"

"And pennies most of all! Kribbles was that vain, she used to wear
jewelry and fly in the face of Providence."

"But you thaid--"

"Will you?--There! you hear that?" There was another blinding flash
and bounding roll of thunder along the shore. "I wonder you didn't
ketch it. You would--only I'm here."

All was quiet again, but from certain indications it was evident that a
collection of those dangerous articles that had proved fatal to the
unhappy Kribbles was being taken up. I could hear the clink of coins
and jingle of ornaments. That Sarah herself was the custodian was
prese