“Poor Dan,” said Cecily compassionately. “He’s up there all alone in his room, missing all the fun. I suppose it’s mean of us to be having such a good time here, when he has to stay in bed.” “If Dan hadn’t done wrong eating the bad berries when he was told not to, he wouldn’t be sick,” said Felicity. “You’re bound to catch it when you do wrong. It was just a Providence he didn’t die.” “That makes me think of another story about old Mr. Scott,” said the Story Girl. “You know, I told you he was very angry because the Presbytery made him retire. There were two ministers in particular he blamed for being at the bottom of it. One time a friend of his was trying to console him, and said to him, “‘You should be resigned to the will of Providence.’ “‘Providence had nothing to do with it,’ said old Mr. Scott. ‘’Twas the McCloskeys and the devil.’” “You shouldn’t speak of the--the--DEVIL,” said Felicity, rather shocked. “Well, that’s just what Mr. Scott said.” “Oh, it’s all right for a MINISTER to speak of him. But it isn’t nice for little girls. If you HAVE to speak of--of--him--you might say the Old Scratch. That is what mother calls him.” “‘’Twas the McCloskeys and the Old Scratch,’” said the Story Girl reflectively, as if she were trying to see which version was the more effective. “It wouldn’t do,” she decided. “I don’t think it’s any harm to mention the--the--that person, when you’re telling a story,” said Cecily. “It’s only in plain talking it doesn’t do. It sounds too much like swearing then.” “I know another story about Mr. Scott,” said the Story Girl. “Not long after he was married his wife wasn’t quite ready for church one morning when it was time to go. So, just to teach her a lesson, he drove off alone, and left her to walk all the way--it was nearly two miles--in the heat and dust. She took it very quietly. It’s the best way, I guess, when you’re married to a man like old Mr. Scott. But just a few Sundays after wasn’t he late himself! I suppose Mrs. Scott thought that what was sauce for the goose was sauce for the gander, for she slipped out and drove off to church as he had done. Old Mr. Scott finally arrived at the church, pretty hot and dusty, and in none too good a temper. He went into the pulpit, leaned over it and looked at his wife, sitting calmly in her pew at the side. “‘It was cleverly done,’ he said, right out loud, ‘BUT DINNA TRY IT AGAIN!’” In the midst of our laughter Pat came down the Walk, his stately tail waving over the grasses. He proved to be the precursor of Dan, clothed and in his right mind. “Do you think you should have got up, Dan?” said Cecily anxiously. “I had to,” said Dan. “The window was open, and it was more’n I could stand to hear you fellows laughing down here and me missing it all. ‘Sides, I’m all right again. I feel fine.”