It was vacation , and there was not much to do that day ; we were soon free to seek the orchard . But the Story Girl would not come . She had seated herself in the darkest , hottest corner of the kitchen , with a piece of old cotton in her hand . `` I am not going to play to-day , '' she said , `` and I 'm not going to tell a single story . Aunt Janet wo n't let me put pebbles in my shoes , but I 've put a thistle next my skin on my back and it sticks into me if I lean back the least bit . And I 'm going to work buttonholes all over this cotton . I hate working buttonholes worse than anything in the world , so I 'm going to work them all day . '' `` What 's the good of working buttonholes on an old rag ? '' asked Felicity . `` It is n't any good . The beauty of penance is that it makes you feel uncomfortable . So it does n't matter what you do , whether it 's useful or not , so long as it 's nasty . Oh , I wonder how Sara is this morning . '' `` Mother 's going down this afternoon , '' said Felicity . `` She says none of us must go near the place till we know whether it is the measles or not . '' `` I 've thought of a great penance , '' said Cecily eagerly . `` Do n't go to the missionary meeting to-night . '' The Story Girl looked piteous . `` I thought of that myself -- but I CA N'T stay home , Cecily . It would be more than flesh and blood could endure .
I MUST hear XXXXX missionary speak .
So as if in of over than that to with