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"This was the iniquity … fulness of bread, and abundance ofidleness…."—EZEKIEL, xvi., 49
August 12, 1911
"Climb up in this tree, and play house!" Elizabeth Ferguson commanded.She herself had climbed to the lowest branch of an apple-tree in theMaitland orchard, and sat there, swinging her white-stockinged legs sorecklessly that the three children whom she had summoned to her side,backed away for safety. "If you don't," she said, looking down at them,"I'm afraid, perhaps, maybe, I'll get mad."
Her foreboding was tempered by a giggle and by the deepening dimple inher cheek, but all the same she sighed with a sort of impersonal regretat the prospect of any unpleasantness. "It would be too bad if I gotmad, wouldn't it?" she said thoughtfully. The others looked at oneanother in consternation. They knew so well what it meant to haveElizabeth "mad," that Nannie Maitland, the oldest of the little group,said at once, helplessly, "Well."
Nannie was always helpless with Elizabeth, just as she was helplesswith her half-brother, Blair, though she was ten and Elizabeth andBlair were only eight; but how could a little girl like Nannie beanything but helpless before a brother whom she adored, and a wonderfulbeing like Elizabeth?—Elizabeth! who always knew exactly what shewanted to do, and who instantly "got mad," if you wouldn't say you'd doit, too; got mad, and then repented, and hugged you and kissed you, andactually cried (or got mad again), if you refused to accept as a signof your forgiveness her new slate-pencil, decorated with strips ofred-and-white paper just like a little barber's pole! No wonder Nannie,timid and good-natured, was helpless before such a sweet, furiouslittle creature! Blair had more backbone than his sister, but even hefelt Elizabeth's heel upon his neck. David Richie, a silent, candid,very stubborn small boy, was, after a momentary struggle, as meek asthe rest of them. Now, when she commanded them all to climb, it wasDavid who demurred, because, he said, he spoke first for Indianstomahawking you in the back parlor.
"Very well!" said the despot; "play your old Indians! I'll never speakto any of you again as long as I live!"
"I've got on my new pants," David objected.
"Take 'em off!" said Elizabeth. And there is no knowing what might havehappened if the decorous Nannie had not come to the rescue.
"That's not proper to do out-of-doors; and Miss White says not to say'pants.'"
Elizabeth looked thoughtful. "Maybe it isn't proper," she admitted;"but David, honest, I took a hate to being tommy-hocked the last timewe played it; so please, dear David! If you'll play house in thetree, I'll give you a piece of my taffy." She took a little stickypackage out of