"Hold the wire up for me, papa," cried Fairy, "I'm too fat." And a
second later she was running gracefully across the lawn toward the
parsonage. The Methodist minister laughed boyishly, and placing his
hands on the fence-post, he vaulted lightly over, and reached the house
with his daughters. Then the Misses Avery, school-teachers, and elderly,
looked at one another.

"Did you ever?" whispered the oldest Miss Avery, and the others slowly
shook their heads.

Now, think! Did you ever see a rector jumping a three-wire fence, and
running full speed across his front yard, in pursuit of a flying family?
It may possibly have occurred,--we have never seen it. Neither had the
Misses Avery. Nor did they ever expect to. And if they had seen it, it
is quite likely they would have joined the backsliders at that instant.

But without wasting much time on this gruesome thought, they hurried to a
window commanding the best view of the parsonage, and raised it. Then
they clustered behind the curtains, and watched, and listened. There was
plenty to hear! From the parsonage windows came the sound of scampering
feet and banging doors. Once there was the unmistakable clatter of a
chair overturned. With it all, there was a constant chorus of "Oh,
look!" "Oh! Oh!" "Oh, how sweet!" "Oh, papa!" "Oh, Prudence!"
"Look, Larkie, look at this!"

Then the thud of many feet speeding down the stairs, and the slam of a
door, and the slam of a gate. The whole parsonage-full had poured out
into the back yard, and the barn-lot. Into the chicken coop they raced,
the minister ever close upon their heels. Over the board fence they