“But, Grandma, truly I didn’t see any harm in going down the well to get cooled off.  The buckets are big and the chains are very strong, and I thought we would just go down slowly and swing around awhile and pull ourselves up again.”

“Oh, Midget, will you never learn commonsense?  I know you’re only twelve, but it seems as if you ought to know better than to do such absurd things.”

“It does seem so, Grandma, and I’ll try to learn.  Perhaps if you punish me for this I’ll grow better.  Punishment most always does me good.”

Grandma Sherwood suppressed a smile.

“I always punish you, Midget, when you do wrong through forgetfulness, because I think punishment helps your memory.  But I don’t think you’ll ever forget that you’re not to go down the well again.  But next time it will be some other dreadful thing; something totally different, and something that it would never occur to me to warn you against.  However, I do want you to remember not to do things that endanger your life, so I think I shall punish you for this morning’s performance.  You may remain in your own room all the afternoon,—­at least, until Uncle Steve comes home.”

Grandma’s command was not so much for the sake of punishing Marjorie as the thought that the child really needed a quiet afternoon of rest after her experience of the morning.

Marjorie sighed a little, but accepted her fate, and after dinner went to her room to spend the afternoon.  It was not a great hardship, for there was plenty of entertainment there, and had it been a rainy day, she could have occupied herself happily.  But the knowledge that she was there as a punishment weighed on her mind, and depressed her spirits; and she wandered idly about the room, unable to take an interest in her books or toys.

Grandma looked in from time to time and gave her an encouraging smile and a few words of comfort; for, though intending to be strict with Midget, like all other grandmas, Mrs. Sherwood greatly preferred to be indulgent.

After a while Molly came over, and, as she seemed so penitent and full of remorse, Mrs. Sherwood told her that, if she chose, she might go up to Marjorie’s room and share her imprisonment.

Nothing loath, Molly trotted upstairs, and the lonesome Marjorie was glad, indeed, to see her.  After a short discussion of the affair of the morning, Marjorie said, with her usual inclination to keep away from disagreeable subjects:  “Don’t let’s talk about it any more.  Let’s have some good fun up here.  I’m so glad Grandma let you come up.”

“All right,” said Molly, “what shall we do?”

“Let’s make paper dresses.  Here’s a stack of newspapers Grandma was going to throw away, and I saved them.”

“Goody!  What fun!  Shall we pin or sew?”

“We’ll pin till the pins give out, and then we’ll sew.”

“Paper dresses” was a favorite pastime with the children.  Usually Stella was with them, and they depended a good deal on her taste and skill.  But to-day they had to manage without her, and so the dresses, though fairly well made, were not the fashionable garments Stella turned out.