She won't have anything but brown bread." Thereupon the bright red lip protruded, the hot blood mounted to her face, the child untied her little "tire," got down from the table, took up her one forlorn, featureless doll, and went to bed without her supper.

The next morning the worthy woman thought that hunger and reflection would have subdued the rebellious spirit.

So there stood yesterday's untouched supper waiting for her breakfast.

She would not taste it, and it became necessary to enforce that extreme penalty of the law which had been threatened, but never yet put in execution.

Miss Silence, in obedience to what she felt to be a painful duty, without any passion, but filled with high, inexorable purpose, carried the child up to the garret, and, fastening her so that she could not wander about and hurt herself, left her to her repentant thoughts, awaiting the moment when a plaintive entreaty for liberty and food should announce that the evil nature had yielded and the obdurate will was broken.
The garret was an awful place.