Transcriber’s Notes: Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end. * * * * * [Illustration: BECKY’S LEAP. Page 89.] _THE MAIDENHOOD SERIES._ RUNNING TO WASTE. THE STORY OF A TOMBOY. BY GEORGE M. BAKER. AUTHOR OF “AMATEUR DRAMAS,” “DRAWING-ROOM STAGE,” “SOCIAL STAGE,” “MIMIC STAGE,” ETC., ETC. _ILLUSTRATED._ BOSTON: LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. NEW YORK: LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM. * * * * * Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, BY GEORGE M. BAKER, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. * * * * * TO MRS. RACHEL E. BOLES, A PATIENT INVALID, WHO WOULD HAVE ME BELIEVE THAT A FEW OF HER WEARY HOURS HAVE BEEN LIGHTENED BY THE READING OF “THE STORY OF A TOMBOY,” I Dedicate this Book, IN REMEMBRANCE OF A LONG FRIENDSHIP, AND IN GRATITUDE FOR MANY KIND ACTS. CONTENTS. PAGE CHAPTER I. STOLEN SWEETS. 7 CHAPTER II. FALLEN FORTUNES. 22 CHAPTER III. MRS. THOMPSON’S CROSS. 38 CHAPTER IV. BECKY SLEEPER’S CHARITY. 56 CHAPTER V. IN SCHOOL AND OUT. 73 CHAPTER VI. BECKY’S LAST FROLIC. 90 CHAPTER VII. MRS. THOMPSON DISOBEYS ORDERS. 104 CHAPTER VIII. BECKY’S NEW BIRTH. 122 CHAPTER IX. TEDDY SLEEPER DINES OUT. 145 CHAPTER X. THE ROMANCE OF A POOR OLD MAID. 161 CHAPTER XI. BECKY BEARDS THE LION IN HIS DEN. 176 CHAPTER XII. AMONG THE WOODPECKERS. 197 CHAPTER XIII. DELIA SLEEPER’S SHIP COMES IN. 215 CHAPTER XIV. TWO YEARS AFTER. 231 RUNNING TO WASTE. CHAPTER I. STOLEN SWEETS. “Bouncers, Teddy! the roundest and the rosiest. Drop them, quick! My apron’s all ready for the darlings.” “It’s very well to say drop _them_; but it’s just as much as I can do to keep from falling myself. Don’t you see I’m holding on with both hands?” “What a fuss you do make! Come down, and let me try. I never saw a tree yet big enough to scare me.” “Who’s scart, Becky Sleeper? I ain’t--not by a long chalk. When a feller’s holdin’ on with both hands, he can’t be expected to pick very quick--can he?” “Wind your arm round that branch over your head. There; now you’re all right, Teddy.” “That’s so. What a hand you are to contrive! Now look sharp--they’re coming!” Becky Sleeper, in imitation of famed “Humpty Dumpty,” sat upon a wall, where she had no business to be, for the wall was the boundary of Captain Thompson’s orchard. But there she sat, her feet dangling, her hair flying, and her hands holding her apron by its corners, intent on catching the apples which her brother was plucking from the tree above her head.