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THE Day family was at breakfast when Grace slipped into her chair beside her papa. There was something unusual going on in her little mind, for a puzzled look was on her face and a queer little quiver about her tightly closed lips. At once family attention turned her way, and Papa Day asked anxiously, "What is it, darling?"

"Oh," answered Grace, in almost a whisper, "I don't know! I dreamed it or somefin', but can't get it fixed up to tell. It's 'bout Trixie. I know she wants us so —" here her voice broke into sobs. "Oh, Aunt Joy! do somefin' quick! do somefin' quick, ever'body!"

At this juncture a telegram was handed to Mrs. Day, which read:

"Your brother, Professor Wilmot, has met with an accident which necessitates a serious operation. Mrs. Wilmot needs your immediate presence. (Signed) A. B. Smythe, M. D."



While the Day family was regaining its poise after this

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sudden announcement, a maid entered with a second message, which said:

"They're going to cut Uncle Ben's head open. Do something quick, Aunt Joy.
(Signed) Trixie."



Then Grace sprang to her feet, every bit of uncertainty gone, and her voice was clear and strong.

" 'At's what it was, but 'ey can't do it, 'ey can't do it. God says 'ey can't do it, and he knows."

"No, they cannot do it," was the quick response from the rest of the Days, while Aunt Joy, with closed eyes, silently answered Trixie's call for help.

This is why the late train out of Meldron carried with it Mamma Day and Aunt Joy, and why the early train into Darmouth Station landed two passengers near Uncle Ben's suburban home.

Was ever a little girl so happy as Trixie! Uncle Ben smiled and was glad. Aunt Susan was comforted, and the whole household came out from under its cloud as soon as Aunt Joy crossed the threshold. The surgical necessity was postponed, and before a week had passed Uncle Ben joined the party returning to Meldron, and that's how Trixie's "Foreign Mission" ended.

But we will let Trixie tell about it in her own unique way.

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ANOTHER LEAF FROM TRIXIE'S JOURNAL


My! but you're glad to get home after you've been gone such a long time. It's just like heaven, and I don't believe God could make any better angels than Grace and Ned and Aunt Joy and papa and mamma. Anyway, I couldn't like 'em any better. I'm awful glad though, they haven't wings; wings are so useless 'bout the house, and I don't see how you'd sit down or go to bed in 'em. Aunt Joy says our thoughts are what we fly with, and its only birds and things that need wings.

Well, whoever would believe so much could happen — no, things don't happen — I mean, could hurry up and come to pass so fast, since I wrote down 'bout Uncle Ben's accident!

It was all because Uncle Ben would ask questions the doctors couldn't answer, 'bout the "big, black sea," and 'cause the big bug names and things went out of his head, that they wanted to cut it open.

Aunt Susan cried all the time, for the doctors scared her so, and everybody went round like a funeral. Oh, but it's awful hard for a little girl to keep seeing Good all the time when everything's that way. I guess God understood it, too, for I felt something warm and snuggy 'bout me that kept me from being afraid and forgetting.

I told Cousin Frank we must get word to mamma and Aunt Joy, quick. He said he knew a place where they sent messages quick as lightning. So we slipped out and hunted it up. They called it a telegraph office, and we had to pay for every word.

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The man looked awful funny when I said I wanted him to hurry up and tell my mamma and Aunt Joy, "They's going to cut Uncle Ben's head open," but he wrote it down and clicked it off on a little machine, and said a man at Meldron would take it to them right away.

Dear Uncle Ben! he wanted me with him all the time; he said the light went out when I was gone. I told him God was his Light and no one could take it away from him. Then he would look at me and say, "But the big, black sea you pulled me out of; don't let them throw me in again."

I promised I wouldn't, and so stayed by him all the night long. Everybody said I must go to bed, but Uncle Ben wanted me, and I knew mamma and Aunt Joy were on the way and would be here in the morning, and I must hold on as hard as ever I could till then.

The doctors and nurses couldn't help themselves. Uncle Ben clung to me and I to him. They said I was a queer little girl, but I didn't care. God made me strong and I wasn't afraid of anybody. I couldn't always tell whether I was asleep or awake, but it seemed just like Aunt Joy was there and stood between Uncle Ben and the doctors, like the picture of the angel with the flaming sword.

It's funny how you feel things so different when you know God's right with you all the time.

I whispered to Uncle Ben every once in a while, "You are all right, Uncle Ben. God's here, and Aunt Joy will be pretty soon." Then he'd press my hand and say, "All right, all right," and I knew he understood.

But, oh, when the daylight came and Aunt Joy and

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mamma were here! How one little girl's heart held all the joy and thankfulness, I can never tell!

I don't know what Aunt Joy and mamma said to the doctors, but they didn't talk any more about cutting Uncle Ben's head open, and he's all right.

And now Uncle Ben's here, and is awfully nice and jolly, and says that wasn't an accident at all, 'cause his head was so hard it had to be cracked to let in new ideas.