24 A YEAR WITH NELLIE.

stood as if fixed on that one spot, wringing
her hands and screaming, “Father! father!
mother! Oh, do come! mother! Oh! oh!”

Both Mr. and Mrs. Maine were half a mile
away, very far from guessing the peril of their
“baby,” as they sometimes called little Harry.
There was only one person within hearing, and
that was Miss Rayner, who was on her way to
see a very old man who lived in a cottage near
the Croft Farm.

“Mother! mother!” reached her ears when
she was but the length of one field away.
Such an agonized tone could only come from
someone almost wild with terror or pain; the
cries turned Miss Rayner’s face as white as her
lace collar. She flung down the umbrella and
books she was carrying, and ran, until, panting
for breath, she came upon her little pupil star-
ing with wide horrified eyes at a hole in the
ice that told its own tale.

“Harry!” was all the poor girl could say, as
she pointed to where he had fallen through.

Miss Rayner took her almost roughly by the
shoulder.

“Run for help, child, quick! To the farm
there!” And she waved her hand to where