Bessie! Bessie! "Yes, mother," replied Bessie Challoner. "You'll be late for school, child, if you are not quick." "Bessie!" shouted her father at the top of his voice from below stairs. "Bessie; late as usual." "I am really going, father; I am just ready," was the eager reply. Bessie caught up her sailor hat, shoved it carelessly over her mass of thick hair, and searched frantically round her untidy bedroom for the string bag which contained her schoolbooks. "Oh, Bessie, you'll get into a scrape," said Judy, one of her younger sisters, dancing into the room. "Why, you are late. I hear the schoolbell ringing; it will stop in a moment." "Don't worry me, Judy," cried Bessie. "Do you know where my bag is?" Judy ran into the middle of the room, turned round, and began to laugh ecstatically. "Do you know where it is, you little good-for-nothing? Have you put it hiding?" "Yes, yes, yes," screamed the child, jumping up and down in her joy. "Then, if you don't give it to me at once, I'll-" But Judy had dodged her and was out of the room. Up to the attic flew the child, and after her dashed Bessie. The bag was found in the corner of the linen-cupboard. Bessie aimed a frenzied blow at Judy, who once again dodged her, then the schoolgirl ran downstairs and was out of the house.