water streaming over the road towards the ditch, and it reminded me of Uncle Tom's Cabin at Milltown, when Eliza took her baby and ran across the Mississippi on the ice blocks, pursued by the bloodhounds. We could n't keep from laughing after we came out of the tent because they were acting on such a small platform that Eliza had to run round and round, and part of the time the one dog they had pursued her, and part of the time she had to pursue the dog. I knew Living would remember, too, so I took off my waterproof and wrapped it round my books for a baby; then I shouted, 'My God! the river!' just like that—the same as Eliza did in the play; then I leaped from puddle to puddle, and Living and Emma Jane pursued me like the bloodhounds. It 's just like that stupid Minnie Smellie who doesn't know a game when she sees one. And Eliza was n't swearing when she said 'My God! the river!' It was more like praying."
"Well, you 've got no call to be prayin', any more than swearin', in the middle of the road," said Miranda; "but I 'm thankful it 's no worse. You 're born to trouble as the sparks fly upward, an' I 'm afraid you allers will be till you learn to bridle your unruly tongue."
"I wish sometimes that I could bridle Minnie's," murmured Rebecca, as she went to set the table for supper.
"I declare she is the beatin'est child!" said
