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INTRODUCTION.

It is but just to explain that, while all of the characters introduced in this little story are purely imaginary, the founding of the Home of the Elder Brother was suggested by the work of some real children, younger than Madame's pupils, who gave a little fair, and, helped by charitable people, instituted a lovely charity, the Messiah Home for Little Children, at 4 Rutherford Place, New York City. This Home still opens its doors to the children of working-women, and is helped by different circles of King's Daughters, some of whom have adopted children to clothe. It is a beautiful work, founded by children for children, and it is hoped that others all over the land will join in it, and that the work may broaden until no such dens as Rickett's Court will remain in our fair city or country.

E. W. C.

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WITCH WINNIE.

CHAPTER I.
BOARDING-SCHOOL SCRAPES.

E never had any until Witch Winnie came to room in our corner.

We had the reputation of being the best behaved set at Madame's, a little bit self-conscious too, and proud of our propriety. Perhaps this was the reason that we were nicknamed the "Amen Corner," though the girls pretended it was because the initials of our names, spelled downward, like an acrostic—

Adelaide Armstrong,
Milly Roseveldt,
Emma Jane Anton,
Nellie Smith—

formed the word amen. But certainly the name would not have clung to us as it did if the other girls had not recognized its fitness in our forming a sanctimonious little clique who echoed Madame's sentiments, and were real Pharisees in minding the rules about study-hours, and whispering, and having our lights out in time, and the other lesser matters of the law which the girls in the "Hornets' Nest," Witch Winnie's set, disregarded with impunity.

And verily we had our reward, for Madame trusted us, and gave us the best set of rooms in the great stone corner tower, overlooking the park, quite away from the espial of the corridor teacher. They had been intended for an infirmary, but as no one was ever sick at Madame's, she grew tired of keeping them unoccupied, and assigned them to us.

Sometimes the other girls annoyed us by making calls in study-hours, and we virtuously displayed a placard on our door bearing the inscription, "Particularly Engaged." It caught Witch Winnie's eye, as she strolled along the hall, and she scribbled beneath it,

We hardly knew whether to be amused or vexed at this sally of Witch Winnie's. We acknowledged that it was bright, but we deplored her wildness, and had no idea how much we should love her in time to come. After all, our reputation as model pupils had a very slender foundation. It rested chiefly on Emma Jane's preternatural conscientiousness. The night that the cadet band serenaded our school, some of the pupils, presumably the girls in the "Hornets' Nest," threw out bouquets to the performers. Rumor said that when Madame heard of this she was greatly shocked.

"I don't see how she can punish them for it," said Adelaide; "there's nothing in the rules about not giving flowers to young men. Still, it was a dreadful thing to do, and Madame is ingenious enough to twist the rules some way, so as to 'make the punishment fit the crime.' I am glad the Amen Corner is guiltless."

Then we marched into chapel on tiptoe with excitement to see Madame wreak vengeance on the wrong-doers. Witch Winnie sat behind me, and turning, I saw that she looked pale, but resolute.

Madame rose in awful dignity, her wiry curls, which Milly said reminded her of spiral bed-springs, bristled ominously.

"Young ladies," she exclaimed, in a sharp tone of command, "you may all rise." We rose.

"If you turn to the printed rules of this institution," she continued, "you will find under Section VII. the following paragraph—'Pupils are not allowed to disfigure the lawn by throwing from the windows any bits of paper, hair, apple-parings, peanut shells, or waste material of any kind. Scrap-baskets are provided for the reception of such matter, and any pupil throwing anything from her window upon the school grounds will be regarded as having committed a misdemeanor.'"

An impressive silence followed, in which Witch Winnie gave a sigh of relief, and whispered to Cynthia Vaughn, "We're all right; we didn't disfigure her precious lawn. The bouquets never touched the ground. I lowered them, with a string, in my scrap-basket (just where she says we ought to have put them), and the drum-major took them out and distributed them to the other boys."

"Young ladies," Madame continued, in tones of triumph, "those of you who have not broken this rule within the past week may sit down."

We all sat down—all but Emma Jane Anton, who remained in conspicuous discomfort. Adelaide pulled her by the basque, "Sit down!" she whispered; "Madame doesn't mean you."

Emma Jane stood like a martyr while Madame regarded her through her lorgnette with astonishment depicted on every feature.

"If you committed this infringement of the rules at any time other than last evening you may sit down."

Emma Jane remained standing.

"Then," said Madame, drawing herself up frigidly, "Miss Anton, you may explain: what was it you threw out?"

"Madame," replied Emma Jane, "the window was open—we were listening to the music—and a bat flew in; and, Madame, he would not stay in the waste-paper basket, and so, Madame, I threw him out."

Every one laughed; discipline was forgotten for the moment, until Madame rapped smartly on the desk and called for order. She complimented Emma Jane highly on her conscientiousness, but she looked provoked with her all the same, while Witch Winnie, who was stuffing her handkerchief into her mouth, nearly went into convulsions.

After the sketch which I have endeavored to give of Witch Winnie, and the position which she occupied at Madame's, I trust that we, as self-respecting pupils, will not be too severely blamed when I confess that we