The Mission of Janice Day

by Helen Beecher Long

"Hey, there! Stop!" Marty called. "It's only me—Marty Day. I won't hurt you."

He could run twice as fast as his quarry, and in a minute had the shaking, weeping figure by the arm.

"Hi tunket!" he gasped. "Lottie Drugg! What you doin' over here?"

"Oh! oh! oh!" sobbed the girl. "I want Janice. Take me to my Janice Day. Oh! do, Marty!"

"Sure," he told her. "There! there! don't cry no more. Were you lost? What brought you here, Lottie?"

"I—I can't tell you," she wailed. "I'll tell my Janice—I'll tell her."

"Come on, then," said Marty huskily. "Janice is just yonder. Don't you see her on the porch?"

He led the sobbing child into the yard of the Day house and Janice, hearing them coming, ran out to learn what it meant.

"Lottie!" she cried, amazed.

Lottie Drugg ran into the bigger girl's arms. "Oh, Janice! My Janice Day!" she sobbed. "You'll take me in, won't you? You'll let me live with you? You love me just the same, don't you?"