Year: 1873

NO, suppose you think Pm of no
consequence, but there's a few little
things more to do, and if you intend to 20
70 that party tonight, you'd better be
SURFING round. There's the bread to
mold out, the beds to make, the sittin'
room to dust, and couple of pies to
make for dinner, and Dams coat to mend,
so he can have it at noon, besides that
basket of clothes to iron."


Poor Harrie! She did hate house-work,
she did hate her uncomfortable surround
ings. She could not help it, that she was
not like her illustrious ancestor, who was
master-hand at work she could not
help it. that she did her work with no
heart in it.


However, she gave herself a mental
scolding, and flew up stairs, and attacked
the beds with sort of atoning zeal; she
was ready and willing to do work that
she hated, when it was necessary that she
should, but she knew that there was an
abundance of means to hire the work
done, and save many a back-ache and
much wear and tear of temper.


There was no need that the house
should be so plain and mean, nor that her
Aunt should work so like a slave. 1t was
an economy that she could find no admi-
ration for.


She had been in the family since lit
tie girl had been cared for like the rest
OF the children. She had been scrupulously
washed, and dressed, and fed, sent to day
school and--an extra indulgence, sent
10 the city for years schooling. Now,
what more could any girl ask. Why on
earth couldn't she turn out like the rest of
the children, and take to the house work.
to making bed-quilts, and rag carpets, and
be content with reading the weekly pa
per, which afforded the mental pabulum
for the rest of the family. But she
couldn't; she was like her own mother,
and 1t was an ever-increasing mystery to
her, how two sisters could be so unlike,
as her mother and this aunt. But we see
this strange diversity of taste and tenn
peranent in families, and wonder over
Johns being so odd, or Mary SO peculiar.


There Was nothing remarkable about
this little Harrie. She had fine, sensi-
tive nature, Above of books, that amounted
almost to passion, keen sense of hui
NOR, that made her Aunt's inconsistent
cies often very comical to her, a warn,
impulsive heart, and good deal of tenn
per, which, however, only needed the
right management to be easily kept in
check. She hated the monotony of her dull
everyday life, and occasionally rebelled
against it, but again bravely made up her
mind to do her best, and that, after all,
there was good deal of sunshine in life,
ifyou could manage to get into it.


Her Aunt was certainly most aggrava-
ting person. She had real fondness for
Harrie, and would work for her till she
was ready to drop down-to use her own
wOrds-but in so simple matter as call
| en- har Horrio tpcfaaA of Har-riat .Iana
she would not indulge her. She had a
great pride i'm her looks, but would never
have thought it possible to have paid her
a compliment. She was proud Of her at
tainments, and secretly considered her a
prodigy Of learning, but would fret with
out ceasing over what she called her waste
of time in reading.


1t was not easy for Harrie to keep her
temper under these circumstances, and in
spite of her own good Judgment, they had
many a war of words. 1t was no use
arguing any point with her Aunt, for she
took all sides of question at once, and
had not the slightest idea of her own in
consistencies.


Then there were three younger chill
dren, Louie, and Dan and Susy. They
adored Harrie, Notwithstanding they
made her wretched by their ceaseless de-
mands.


Weleft our Harrie making the beds, now
we will go back and see how it has Jared
with her during our explanation.


She finished her work and went down,
and busted the sitting room. Then she
went resolutely at the basket of clothes.
She didn't want to do that, because there
was to be a party at the Blake's that
night, and she knew that ironing didn't
improve ones hands any, but she con-
quered herself and went to her work.
She knew that in the afternoon she had a
few little preparations to make; her Swis;
muslin dress must be ironed out, and the
blue bows made over, so as to look fresh
and new. She did so wish she could have
a few flowers. A little mignonette OF
candytuft, or purple pansy. But she
remembered gratefully, that there were
some half-opened rose-buds in the yard
and these would have to do with little
sprig of sweet-brier. She felt pretty sure
she could make her great mass of hair
| look pretty-it always did, but cluster
of pansies against her yellow locks, she
knew would be vastly more becoming than
pink rose-buds, beautiful as they are. But
she knew also she couldn't have them
| To be sure, the Blake girls had plenty,
| but she would not ask for them. In fact
they seemed to have everything, and she
wondered why, while she ironed Dams
shirts and Louis linen coat, and Susan's 6
aprons, that some lives were so full-and
others so empty. She was too young
however, to be deeply troubled by these
questions-for, was not the world before
her, and hope was strong in her little
heart, and who knows, she said over anc
over to herself, what blessings there may
be in the years that lie before me.


Ny duty demands that tell my readers
that in her hopes and dreams for the fu
ture, tall handsome young fellow nance
viii Wallace figured conspicuously. She
was wishing that he could be down to the
party that night; but his letter last weel
said that it was uncertain how soon ht
could come. So, of course. he could no
be there. But in the little country village
in the summer evenings, two or three girl
could 60 together to any little gathering
so an escort was not indispensable. Sh'
thought she would run up the street BY
and by and see Kitty Harris, and ask he
to call for her, and in the meantime se'
what she was going to wear.


Presently her aunt exclaimed, "Sake
| ol;yat ;f tho, q oiu,t Mrs Gilman comint