"She's gone out. I'm the only one home."
"Get a rag or something, will you please Alice?" and Bart danced around on one leg, holding the other limb out so stiffly that he knocked over several chairs.
"Is your leg hurt too, Bart?"
"No, it's only my three fingers."
"But you stuck one leg out so I thought that was injured also."
"I'd stick 'em both out if it would only ease this pain any! Maybe my fingers will have to come off!"
"Oh, Bart! What did it?"
"My new gun. I went to lay it down on the table and it fell to the floor and went off. Did you hear it?"
"I couldn't very well help it. Did the bullet go through your hand?"
"It doesn't shoot bullets. It shoots shot, and I guess it only grazed a few fingers. Most of the shot went into the wall," and Bart gazed at a dark spot on the wall-paper, and then looked at his injured hand. "I didn't think it would go off so easily," he added.
"Oh, those horrid guns!" exclaimed the girl. "I just knew when papa let you send for it—"
"Say, Alice, if you ever intend to be a trained
