"
"Didn't you spill it?"
"No, ma'am."
"Now, Flora Scott, I want the truth! Did you fill that pitcher
with water and carry it up there, and wasn't there any there when
she came to use it?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Let me see that pitcher." Sophia examined the pitcher. It was
not only perfectly dry from top to bottom, but even a little dusty.
She turned severely on the young girl. "That shows," said she,
"you did not fill the pitcher at all. You let the water run at the
side because you didn't want to carry it upstairs. I am ashamed of
you. It's bad enough to be so lazy, but when it comes to not
telling the truth--"
The young girl's face broke up suddenly into piteous confusion, and
her blue eyes became filmy with tears.
"I did fill the pitcher, honest," she faltered, "I did, Aunt
Sophia. You ask Aunt Amanda."
"I'll ask nobody. This pitcher is proof enough. Water don't go
off and leave the pitcher dusty on the inside if it was put in ten
minutes ago. Now you fill that pitcher full quick, and you carry
it upstairs, and if you spill a drop there'll be something besides
talk."
Flora filled the pitcher, with the tears falling over her cheeks.
Pages:
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115