"Who beat?" demanded Bab.
"I did. I ran away and he couldn't catch me."
"Can you shoot nicely?"
"I hit a cow. She did not mind at all. I guess she thought it was a fly."
"Did your mother know you were coming?" asked Bab, feeling an interest in runaways.
"No; she is gone to drive, so I could not ask her."
"It is very wrong to disobey. My Sunday-school book says that children who are naughty that way never go to heaven," observed virtuous Betty, in a warning tone.
"I do not wish to go," was the startling reply.
"Why not?" asked Betty, severely.
"They don't have any dirt there. My mamma says so. I am fond of dirt. I shall stay here where there is plenty of it," and the candid youth began to grub in the mould with the satisfaction of a genuine boy.