"Oh, dear, yes! The worst of all!" cried Nan. "The yellow
poster is up at the mills."

"The yellow poster?" repeated her mother doubtfully, not at first
understanding the significance of her daughter's statement.

"Yes. You know. When there's anything bad to announce to the
hands the Atwater Company uses yellow posters, like a small-pox,
or typhoid warning. The horrid thing! The mills shut down in
two weeks, Momsey, and no knowing when they will open again."

"Oh, my dear!" was the little woman's involuntary tribute to the
seriousness of the announcement.

In a moment she was again her usual bright self. She drew Nan
closer to her and her own brown eyes, the full counterpart of
her daughter's, winkled merrily.

"I tell you what let's do, Nan," she said.

"What shall we do, Momsey?" repeated the girl, rather
lugubriously.

"Why, let's not let Papa Sherwood know about it, it will make
him feel so bad."

Nan began to giggle at that. She knew what her mother meant. Of
course, Mr. Sherwood, being at the head of one of the mill
departments, would know all about the announcement of the shut-