Mother and my sister Nancy and I were at a dinner party at a very nice house-belonging to Paul and Jean Sparkles, I believe.  Nancy was much younger-maybe 10 or so.  Some other little girl was there who was really a brat.  She threw a whole plate of food against a wall and it stuck there, plate and all.  The hostess didn't see it, and I was going to tell her, but Mother reprimanded me and said it wouldn't be polite to tattle on her, that we had to let her figure out the truth for herself.  So I did, but I didn't like the possibility that the suspicion might fall on Nancy.  Fortunately, the other kid was such a brat that I think there could have been little doubt who did it.    Nancy and I were downstairs with our friends Paul and Steve.  There were a couple of sets of really tall bunk beds and some things I don't remember hanging on the walls-model airplanes or something.  I noticed the windows were dirty and considered cleaning them, but decided that wouldn't be polite either.  Besides, some were dirty screens and the outsides of storm windows.  We must have been upstairs instead of downstairs, because Nancy got out on the ledge of an open window, and it was at least three stories high.  Suddenly she started to fall.  I gasped and leaped up and grabbed her hand.  That was all I had her by, but little by little I managed to drag her inside.  In doing so, she dragged against the latch and got scratched, but I kept telling her not to worry about getting scratched, just to concentrate on holding my hand.  I was so relieved to have saved her that I held her like I would my daughter Christina, and when someone asked me about it, I started crying. When we left there, I washed the windshield of Uncle Joe's car.  It was a big car, with an unusual curve to the windshield.