Vaulting over the fence, for there would have been no amusement in going through the gate, Mittie led the way to the forbidden ground, and it was not long before her companions, yielding to the influence of her bold, adventurous spirit, followed. Disdaining to cross the rustic bridge that spanned the brook, they took off their shoes and waded over its pebbly bed. They knew Miss Thusa's room was on the opposite side of the house, and while running round it, they had heard the hum of her busy wheel, so they did not fear her watching eye. "Now," said Mittie, catching one of the skeins with her nimble feet, and tossing it in the air; "who will play cat's cradle with me?" The idea of playing cat's cradle with the toes, for they had not resumed their shoes and stockings, was so original and laughable, it was received with acclamation, and wild with excitement they rushed in the midst of Miss Thusa's treasures--and such a twist and snarl as they made was never seen before. They tied more Gordian knots than a hundred Alexanders could sever, made more tangles than Princess Graciosa in the fairy tale could untie. "What shall we do with it now?" they cried, when the novelty of the occupation wore off, and conscience began to give them a few remorseful twinges. "Roll it up in a ball and throw it in the brook," said Mittie, "she'll think some of her witches have carried it off. I'll pay her for it," she added, with a scornful laugh, "if she finds us out and makes a fuss. It can't be worth more than a dollar--and I would give twice as much as that any time to spite the old thing." So they wound up the dirty, tangled, ruined thread into a great ball, and plunged it into the stream that had so often laved the whitening filaments. Had Miss Thusa seen it sinking into the blue, sunny water, she would have felt as the mariner does when the corpse of a loved companion is let down into the burying wave. In a few moments the gate was shut, the green slope smiled in answer to the mellow smile of the setting sun, the yellow birds frightened away by the noisy groups, flew back to their nests, among the fragrant lilacs, and the stream gurgled as calmly as if no costly wreck lay within its bosom. When the last beam of the sinking sun glanced upon her distaff, turning the fibres to golden filaments, Miss Thusa paused, and the crank gave a sudden, upward jerk, as if rejoiced at the coming rest. Putting her wheel carefully in its accustomed corner, she descended the stairs, and bent her steps to the bleaching ground. She met Helen at the gate, who remembered the trysting hour. "Bless the child," cried Miss Thusa, with a benevolent relaxation of her harsh features, "she never forgets any thing that's to do for another. Never mind getting the watering-pot now. There'll be a plenty of dew falling."