"She said, 'Run away and don't bother me. I haven't any time for your nonsense,'" responded Felicity in an injured tone. "And I said, 'But, ma, the paper says to-morrow is the Judgment Day,' and ma just said, 'Judgment Fiddlesticks!'"
"Well, that's kind of comforting," said Peter. "She can't put any faith in it, or she'd be more worked up."
"If it only wasn't printed!" said Dan gloomily.
"Let's all go over and ask Uncle Roger," said Felix desperately.
That we should make Uncle Roger a court of last resort indicated all too clearly the state of our minds. But we went. Uncle Roger was in his barn-yard, hitching his black mare into the buggy. His copy of the Enterprise was sticking out of his pocket. He looked, as we saw with sinking hearts, unusually grave and preoccupied. There was not a glimmer of a smile about his face.
"You ask him," said Felicity, nudging the Story Girl.
"Uncle Roger," said the Story Girl, the golden notes of her voice threaded with fear and appeal. "The Enterprise says that to-morrow is the Judgment Day. Is it? Do you think it is?"
"I'm afraid so," said Uncle Roger gravely. "The Enterprise is always very careful to print only reliable news."
"But mother doesn't believe it," cried Felicity.
Uncle Roger shook his head.
205
