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THE ELEVENTH VIRGIN the mysteries of her religion and her saints one evening after the supper dishes were done, and before the smaller children had to be put to bed. The gleaming stars glimpsed through the network of porches, the soft warm night, and the dusky odorous alley made her disclosures all the more impressive. She also gave June the story of a saint to read, with the result that thereafter June prayed to Pelagia, her birthday saint, every time a whipping threatened. It didn’t avert the punishment, but her faith remained unshaken. Were the saints ever saved from the caldrons of boiling oil by their prayers?

One hot night, when the hurdy-gurdies were playing in the street, and the call of the “hot tamale” man and the voices of the passerby kept the night alive, Adele stuck her elbow in June’s ribs.

“Tell me a story so’s I kin get to sleep,” she demanded.

“Won’t!” June replied. “I'm thinkin’.”

“All right for you. I’ll tell Mother how you went in swimmin’ again with the boys after she told you not to.”

“I’ll tell Mother on you for that too. Are y’gonna tell me a story?” threateningly.

A whipping had lost its novelties and much of its terror for June. She was about to pull her sister's hair when she thought of St. Pelagia and a new game