The St. Louis Republic., 1903-03-15

irlknow whether to resent this or not. It wa
| certainly strange conduct for a "hired girl"
| 1t was bred in his little bones to resent
familiarity from interiors.
The mother and daughter, too, exchanged
giances, though there was a tenderness In
| the mother-eyes, as though they approved
what they saw.
| fed the baby in the kitchen on bread
and milk She laughed, and we had jolly
| time. When knew by the down-droopinR
| Of the lids over her pansy eyes that she
was sleepy, I picked her up and, while ]
roughly jolted her back and forth in the
| straight wooden kitchen chair. her head
rested against my bosom, just as though I
were not a hired girl" and she foated off
| into dreamland, while hummed Ella
Wheeler Wilcox's beautiful slumber song:
| Come. cuddle your head on my shoulder, dear
Your head like the golden rod,
| And We will 20 sailing away from here
| To the beautiful land CT nod.
Then carried her up the steps to her
little bed. Returning to the kitchen, the
mistress called to me:
Margaret, will you please carry Walter
upstairs. He has fallen asleep over his
lunch"
Ny arms were strong. but I feared a lit
tie the strain of going up flight of stairs
with SO great burden.
But, remembering that was going to do
all that a real, genuine "hired girl' would
be required to do, Immediately shouldered
Walter, following the rules for lifting
weights that are taught by trainers in ath-
letics. and which Mr.. Mugge had shown me
in his gymnasium.
After the luncheon dishes were done and
put away, washed up the oilcloth- covered
floor of the kitchen and polished the dusty
range and SHOOK down. the furnace again,
a call coming through the speaking tube
requesting that do SO. Then, at o'clock
I sat down in the straight wooden chair to
rest little. Presently the looking
lady of the house dropped in to see "how 1
was doing"
CONIPLIMENTED BY
MISTRESS OF THE HOUSE.
She complimented me upon the appear
ance Of the kitchen, recounted some of the
ugly and disagreeable traits of my prede-
cessor, and then vanished. only to reappear
in a moment to say:
Margaret, will you please get the channels
and wash off the parlor windows. 1t has
been so windy and dusty the last few days
they look just awful and a cloudy day Is
a good time to wash windows. And wipe
up the vestibule and steps, too. 1 don't
think it's freezing now
lAh, here was the rub-quoting Hamlet.
and not referring to the process Of window
washing.
1 had never washed a window. but en-
tertaIned a theory that I knew how. No
soap 1 was sure; just warm water, with
chamois wrung almost dry.
sat on the wide sill. pulled the window
frame lay on my lap and accomplished
my task splendidly, with chill wind sweep
ing over my back.
With the blue-and-white tiled vestibule
and stone steps was quite charmed.
watched their whiteness springing up
in the wake of my brush and CLOTH and.
true to the spirit of me. I was delighted and
felt repaid in bringing SO much beauty out
of where had been only griminess for
week or more.
Supper time was fast approaching. I pre-
pared my vegetables and meat according to
Mrs Rorer's most approved methods, made
an apple pie without any roof and
whipped cream to serve with it. Then, the
pride of my heart-dear little faky biscuits!
The head of the house came home. kissed
his wife and asked how she liked the new
girl" The little woman murmured: 80
far. she is a treasure. But a new broom
sweeps clean"
heard it, and remembered. with a tired
feeling in my right arm. of all the sweeping
I had done that day with miserable old
and stubbv broom. (Such poor tools with
which households are equippedD
The masters smile Of approval as he
ate my fiaky biscuits and broiled steak
showed that he, too. thought me a treasure
up to date.
( Their supper over, ate mine (My friend.
the laundress had had hers earlier and gone
home) Dishes done. at $50 prepared to