Year: 1879

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 down good bit at the top, for the chilt

 is growing" Blessed old soul I didn'

 mind being called child by her, for sh'

 considers Aunt Marsden herself mere

 infant. I sprang from the bed ant

 hastily examined the skirt. Sure enough

 there was a "good bit " turned down a

 the top. Not enough to make long

 train like Sylvie's, but quite enough tt

 make 1t a respectable length. I wen

 eagerly at work, and soon had the dress

 completed to my satisfaction.

 The important night came at last.

 arranged my curls with unusua

 care, donned my remodeled dress, tool

 critical survey of myself, and wen

 into Sylvie's room feeling highly de

 lighted with myself and at peace witt

 all the world.

 Sylvie was in the hands of her maic

 and under the supervision of Aunt

 Marsden. Her blonde hair was frizze6

 and puffed and braided, and the effect

 was quite bewildering, but her dress

 was charming. I rushed up to inspect

 but she motioned me away. "Don't be so boisterous you'll get me all in g muss P she cried so I was obliged tc admire at respectful distance.

 Grandma was sitting by the fire knit. ting, and taking Q survey of the pro. ceedings. Presently she adjusted hel spectaclea and surveyed me. "Bless

 me P she exclaimed, chow you do grow, child"

 "Wen, I do declare 1" came from Aunt Marsden-once in while she for gets to be elegant" what in the world have you been doing to your dress, Mabel ?''

 "Only made it trife longer, Aunt ; you see l had outgrown it." answered, as nnceremoniously as possible.

 |" Outgrown it, indeed p she retorted. " When did I give up the control of your wardro be ?'

 "I knew you were all busy, 50 thought I would not trouble any one, as l could do it myself"

 Mabel "-it is wonderful what an amount of expression Aunt can put into the mere pronunciation of my name remember this In the future I will attend to your wardrobe D Then she re- lapsed into severe silence.

 Aunt never scolds, but her silence is more impressive than most peoples speech, and the very manner in which she pinned on her collar was a stern reproof.

 Sylvie does not resemble her mother ln this respect. She has an artless way Of making aggrayatipg remarks, and it always drives me to desperation. I rarely attempt to answer her, for she can say more hateful things in ten minutes than I can think of in year. Sylvie has her faults, if she is eighteen. We'll, she just opened her batteries on me until I got into such rage, and rushed from the room declaring that "I wouldn't go step to her old party, so there " Aunt never reproves Sylvie. My unfortunate temper is considered the sole cause of every trouble. I can't deny that I have 8 temper, but I do think 1t would not burst out so ire quently if there were no Sylvie to fan it into flame. But Sylvie is so gentle she never quarrels," her mother used to say, and so Sylvie always escaped 

 I remember how, when I was a little dot of Q thing, once took the law into my own hands.

 SylVie had been tormenting me all the morning, and I had complained of her behavior to aunt, who, instead of re- dressing my wrongs, bade me play alone If couldn't play with .Sylvie without quarreling, so I went up stairs to the playroom with my rag doll for company, and was keeping house very pleasantly with my best china tea-set spread out on stool, when in came Sylvie. She gave the stool sly push with her foot which sent my cherished tea-set to the floor with crash. I thought the time had come to assert my rights, so I caught up the nearest article, which happened to be book of fairy tales, and threw it straight at Sylvie's head. Her screams brought the whole household, and was immediately marched off to the garret, where l was kept @ prisoner for two days and nights. Such long days and such dark nights Three times day Jane brought me slice of bread and butter and glass of water. I remember I de- cided to starve myself the first day, and then guessed mistress auntie would feel bad when she came up and found only my skeleton lying on the floor, and perhaps she would be put in prison her self for murder, and it would serve her just right, too.

 So every time Jane brought my bread and butter, l crumbled it and threw it In dark corner under the caves, and was pretty hungry too. We'll that night the mice were attracted by the crumbs l suppose, for such @ scampering and crambllng and squealing I had never heard before. I hid my head under the bedclothes, for knew mice were par ticularly fond of naughty girls noses, and I didn't want to lose my nose if it wasn't quite as pretty as Sylvie's. My solitary confinement came to an end at last, and it left such an impression on my mind that I never raised my hand against Sylvie again. However, I took my doll, Rosa Isabel, poured cup of water over her head, and solemnly christened her "Sylvie Marsden." From that time Sylvie's representative received the pun1shments which properly be- longed tosSylvie herself. If was 9 oraas