"I should have thought you would, auntie," cried Grace, fairly turning pale. "Did it bring the blood?"
"Yes, indeed! Why, when I went into the kitchen, my footsteps were tracked with little pools of blood, oozing out of my boot. Sister Maria screamed out,—'O, look at Maggie! She's cut her foot with that hatchet!'"
"'No, no, I haven't,' said I, for I was frightened almost to death, and afraid of being punished for disobedience. You see father had forbidden us little ones ever to touch the hatchet."
"Why, you told a right up and down——fib," said Susy, looking shocked.
"A real whopper," said Horace, shaking his head.
"So I did, children, and before my story is done you shall see what misery my sin caused me."
"Did Mr. 'Gustus Allen know about it?" asked little Prudy.
"I guess not," replied aunt Madge, blushing. "He lived ever so far off then."
"O dear," sighed Prudy, "I wish he hadn't gone to the wars. How it made you cry!"
"Hush up, please, can't you, Prudy?" said Susy. "Aunt Madge is telling a story."