"Oh, shucks, she knows as well as us." "She's just stubborn." She who was receiving these criticisms seemed to be somewhat older and larger than her companions. Just now, not deigning to notice the accusation of her friends, she was throwing sticks into the running water and watching them go over the falls at the headgate and dance on the rapids below. Her white party dress was as yet spotless. She swung her straw hat by the string. Her brown-black hair was crowned by an unusually large bow of red ribbon. She was not the least discomposed by the teasing of the other children, neither by Dorian's presence. This was her party, and why should not she do and say what she pleased. Carlia now led the way along the canal bank until she came to where a pole spanned the stream. She stopped, looked at the somewhat insecure footbridge, then turning to her companions, said: "I can back you out." "How? Doin' what?" they asked. "Crossing the canal on the pole." "Shucks, you can't back me out," declared one of the boys, at which he darted across the swaying pole, and with a jump, landed safely across. Another boy went at it gingerly, and with the antics of a tight-rope walker, he managed to get to the other side. The other boys held back; none of the girls ventured. "All right, Carlia," shouted the boys on the other bank. The girl stood looking at the frail pole. "Come on, it's easy," they encouraged. Carlia placed her foot on the pole as if testing it. The other girls protested. She would fall in and drown. "You dared us; now who's the coward," cried the boys. Carlia took a step forward, balanced herself, and took another. The children stood in spell-bound silence. The girl advanced slowly along the frail bridge until she reached the middle where the pole swayed dangerously. "Balance yourself," suggested the second boy. "Run," said the first. But Carlia could neither balance nor run. She stood for a moment on the oscillating span, then threw up her hands, and with a scream she plunged into the waters of the canal.