It was a half holiday. The children were gathered on the green, and a right merry time they were having.
"Come, girls and boys," called out Ned Graham, "let's play hunt the squirrel."
They were all eager for the game, and a large circle was formed with Ned Graham for leader because he was the largest.
"Come, Susie," said one of the boys, to a little girl who stood on one side, and seemed to shrink from joining them.
"Oh, never mind her!" said Ned, with a little toss of his head, "she's nobody, anyhow. Her father drinks."
A quick flush crept over the child's pale face as she heard the cruel, thoughtless words.
She was very sensitive, and the arrow had touched her heart in its tenderest place.
Her father was a drunkard, she knew, but to be taunted with it before so many was more than she could bear; and with great sobs heaving her bosom, and hot tears filling her eyes, she turned and ran away from the play-ground.
Her mother was sitting by the window when she reached home, and the tearful face of the little girl told that something had happened to disturb her.
"What is the matter, Susie?" she asked, kindly.