ought to tell one's mother everything."

"It's pretty hard sometimes, though," sighed Sara. "Ma scolds so
much when I do tell her things, that it sort of discourages me.
But when I think of how dreadful I felt the time of the Judgment
Day over deceiving her in some things it nerves me up. I'd do
almost anything rather than feel like that the next time the
Judgment Day comes."

"Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell a story," said Uncle Blair. "What do
you mean by speaking of the Judgment Day in the past tense?"

The Story Girl told him the tale of that dreadful Sunday in the
preceding summer and we all laughed with him at ourselves.

"All the same," muttered Peter, "I don't want to have another
experience like that. I hope I'll be dead the next time the
Judgment Day comes."

"But you'll be raised up for it," said Felix.

"Oh, that'll be all right. I won't mind that. I won't know
anything about it till it really happens. It's the expecting it
that's the worst."

"I don't think you ought to talk of such things," said Felicity.

When evening came we all went to Golden Milestone. We knew the
Awkward Man and his bride were expected home at sunset, and we
meant to scatter flowers on the path by which she must enter her