"So 'he' is a young lady, too? Well, I have great faith in girls, even girl donkeys, as well as in those who own them. There will certainly be a way out; if not up the bank, then through the mill. By the by, if you've never visited such a place, and have come to it 'by accident,' wouldn't you like to go through it now? I'm the superintendent, William Metcalf, and am just about to make my rounds, before we shut down for the night. I'd be pleased to show you about, though we must first find a safe place where we can tie your donkey. She looks very intelligent." "Oh, indeed, sir, she is! She's the dearest burro. She and her brother Balaam were sent to my brother and me from California. Her name is Pepita, and I am Amy Kaye. I live at Fairacres." At this announcement the gentleman looked as if he were about to whistle, though courtesy prevented. He bowed gravely:-- "I'm very glad to know you. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll find something with which to tie the burro." He soon returned, bringing a leather strap. "We'll fasten her to the stair, but it will be better to put these branches on the ground. Having them on her back frets her." "Thank you. You're very kind." Pepita did not endorse this opinion. In the matter of tying she gave them all the trouble she could, and allowed them to depart only after a most indignant bray. Her racket brought various heads to the windows, and the visitors were as much of interest to the artisans as themselves were to Amy. She followed her guide eagerly, too self-unconscious to be abashed by any stare; and though he had shown many strangers "over the works," he felt that explaining things to this bright-eyed girl would be a pleasanter task than ordinary. "I like to begin all things at the foundation," he remarked, with a smile, "so we'll go to the fire-room first." This was down another short flight of steps, and over a bridge spanning the race, which deep, dark watercourse immediately caught Amy's attention. "How smooth and swift it looks; and so black. Isn't that man afraid to stand there?" indicating a workman stationed upon the sluice gate, engaged in the endless task of raking fallen leaves away from the rack. "Oh, no! not afraid! The work is monotonous, but it must be done, or there'll be the mischief to pay. Now, here are the fires." A soot-grimed man approached the door of the furnace room, and respectfully touched his forehead to his superior, then glanced toward Amy. "I'm afeared the little lady will soil her pretty frock," he remarked, with another pull at his forelock. "Thank you for thinking of it. I'll try to be careful," she answered, tiptoeing across the earthen floor, to stoop and peer into the roaring furnaces. "I should be afraid it would burn the whole place up. How hot it is! Is it all right?" "Yes; they're doing prime to-day. We takes care of the danger, miss. But hot? Well, you should ought to be here about midsummer, say. Ah! this isn't bad, is it, boss?"