enjoyment of this novel game.

Hearing the commotion, Grandma Sherwood came to the kitchen, and
not unnaturally supposed it all the result of some new prank.

"What HAVE you been doing?" she exclaimed. "Why didn't you stay at
Stella's and not try to come home through this rain?"

Marjorie, drenched as she was, threw herself into her
grandmother's arms.

"Oh, if you only knew!" she cried; "you came near not having your
bad little Mopsy any more! And Stella's mother came nearer yet!
Why, Grandma, we were in the tree-house, and it was struck by
lightning, and Stella was killed, at least for a little while, and
the ladder broke down, and we couldn't get down ourselves, and so
we sent off rockets of distress, I mean firecrackers, and then
Carter came and rescued us all!"

As Marjorie went on with her narrative, Grandma Sherwood began to
understand that the children had been in real danger, and she
clasped her little grandchild closer until her own dress was
nearly as wet as the rest of them.

"And so you see, Grandma," she proceeded, somewhat triumphantly,
"it wasn't mischief a bit! It was a--an accident that might have
happened to anybody; and, oh, Grandma dear, wasn't it a narrow
squeak for Stella!"

"Howly saints!" ejaculated Eliza; "to think of them dear childer