CHAPTER VIII.
"WHEELBARROWING." "The wickedest girl in this town!" Jennie's eyes flashed in the dark like a couple of fireflies.

At first she was too angry to speak; and when words did come, they were too weak.

She wanted words that were so strong, and bitter, and fierce, that they would make Dotty quail.

But all she could say was,-- "O, dreadful good you are, Miss Parlin! Good's the minister! Ah! guess I'll get out and sleep on the floor!" Dotty made no reply, but rolled over to the front of the bed, and Jennie pushed herself to the back of it.

There the little creatures lay in silence, each on an edge of the bedstead, and a whole mattress between.