“‘Father!’ I cried wildly. ‘Charlie did not whistle in meeting. I did it.’
“Mother and the girls had followed me, and they all, even Charlie, stared at me in amazement. It was plain they did not believe me. They thought I was trying to shield Charlie.
“‘I did whistle,’ I said, crying. ‘I can whistle. I tell you I can whistle.’
“‘Then whistle,’ said Father sternly.
“And how I did try to whistle! I puffed my cheeks and twisted and turned my mouth and blew and blew, but I couldn’t make a sound, not a single sound.
“Father looked so hurt and sorry that I longed to throw myself into his arms and make him believe me. You see, it looked to Father as if Charlie and I were both telling stories. Father said we were only making things worse and ordered us all out of the room.
“In the sitting room we found Truman and Joe, who had been tending the horses, and John and Isabel Strang, who had come around past their house to let their family out of the sled before coming on to our house for dinner.
“The minute I saw John I drew Mother’s head down and whispered to her, ‘Ask John. He knows, he saw me do it;’ and Mother in a hesitating way said, ‘John, do you know who whistled in meeting this morning?’
“John turned as red as our old turkey gobbler and looked at me.