THE BROWN BEETLE UNDERTAKES A MISSION. 123

the soft mud of the cranberry bog,— the very
spot into which she had intended to entice
innocent Mona.

“Help!” screamed Wassa, striving vainly to
extricate herself, “help! I am sinking deeper
and deeper in the mire!”

 

“The chase is o’er, the race is won ,
There wilt thou stay till rise of sun.
Thou mad’st thy plan, and so did we,
But we planned best, as thou dost see,”’

called out the mischievous wisp, suddenly ap-
pearing with his lantern lighted.