Gradually things took on queer shapes, and the sounds seemed to come from afar; there was a moment of confusion and then,--I found myself on a wide prairie. Heavy clouds were swiftly approaching; the thunder rolled long and loud, and the lightning darted hither and thither. Off in the distance I saw a forest. I pushed toward it with all my strength so as to take shelter before the storm should come upon me; but as I labored on there crept over me a consciousness of a weight upon my back which, hitherto, I had not noticed. It retarded my progress, and from time to time I was obliged to stop and give a little spring to shift the burden higher up. A cry of terror came from the thing I was carrying; then I knew it was little Rosalie. I tried to speak words of encouragement to her, but my strength was fast failing. Great drops of rain fell, and the wind drove the dust into my face, blinding me. I tottered on with my load, but the timber was still far away. A vivid flash, a deafening crash, and I fell to the ground with a cry. I tried to rise, but my legs and arms were as though dead. With a start I opened my eyes. The room was darkened; there was a great commotion; all through the house, windows were being rapidly closed and the doors swung to with a bang. A terrific storm had arisen, and the building was in danger of destruction. Rosalie lay asleep with her head resting on my knees. Chapter XI A New Study It was a hot September afternoon; our gingham handkerchiefs, which matched our shirts, were wet with mopping our faces. We all felt cross; Gray-beard was cross, and everything we did went wrong. Warren, who had been sent to the spring for a pail of cold water, leaned over his desk to Brush, and whispered loud enough for the boys around us to hear, "A big black carriage came up to the gate just now, and the Agent and three other big fat men got out. The super'tendent shook hands with them, and they went to his room." While Gray-beard was shaking a boy to make him read correctly, the news of the black carriage and the fat men went from boy to boy. The girls were dying to know what word it was the boys were passing around; but the aisle that separated them from us was too wide to whisper across. Warren's girl made signs to him which he at first did not understand; when he caught her meaning, he tore a fly-leaf out of his book, wrote on it, rolled it into a ball and threw it to the girl, who deftly caught it; these two were adepts at such transmission of messages. The girl unfolded the paper, read it, and passed it on; then the girls felt better and resumed their work.