mother, as Pussy was helping her into her gown. You are such a nice handy little housekeeper that I think I can easily show you how to get the whole breakfast. Wouldn't you like to have me teach you how to mix the corn-cakes?'

O, then how Pussy laughed and crowed, as she led her mother into the kitchen, and, opening the oven-door, showed her corn-cakes rising as nicely as could be, and baking with a real lovely golden brown! And besides that there were slices of ham that she had cut and trimmed so neatly, lying all ready to be put into the frying-pan.

How Pussy enjoyed that breakfast! The cakes were as light and golden as her mother's best, and Pussy had all the glory of them, for she had made them all by herself. I don't think Miss Emily Proudie ever felt so delighted to walk out in a new hat and feather as did little Pussy to be able to get this breakfast for

her mother, and to hear the praises of her father and brothers on everything she had made.

It would be amusing if the good fairies would let us ride on a bit of their fairy carpet through the air on this same bright morning, when Pussy was so gay and happy in her household cares, and set us down in the elegant chamber where little Emily was sleeping. Everything about the room shows such a study to please the sleeping child! The walls are hung with lovely pictures; the floor is carpeted with the most charming carpet; the sofas and chairs. and lounges are all of the most elegant shapes, and spread out upon the sofa is a beautiful new walking-dress, which came home after little Emily went to bed last night, and which is spread out so as to catch her eye the first thing when she wakes in the morning. It is now past eight o'clock, and Pussy Willow has long since washed all the dishes, and arranged the kitchen, and

done the morning work in the farm-house, and has gone out with her little basket on her arm to dig roots, and pull young winter-green for beer; but all this while little Emily has been drowsily turning from side to side, and uneasily brushing off the busy flies that seem determined she shall not sleep any longer.

'Come now, Miss Emily! your mamma says you must wake up and see your pretty new dress,' says Bridget, who has been in four times before, to try and wake the little sleeper. Emily sits up in bed at last, and calls for the new dress.

So, she's got it done at last-that hateful Madame Tulleruche! She always keeps me waiting so long that I am tired to death. But there!-she has gone and put that trimming on in folds, and I told her I wanted puffs. The dress is just ruined. Take it away, Bridget. I I can't bear the sight of it. I do wonder what is the reason that I never can have anything

done as other girls can.

There's always some

thing the matter with my things.'

'Troth, Miss Emily, it's jist that ye's got too much of ivrything, and your stomach is kept turned all the time,' said Bridget. 'If ye had to work as I do for your new dresses, ye'd like 'em better, that's what ye would. I tell ye what would do ye more good than all the fine things ye's got, and that same's a continted mind.'

'But how can I be contented,' said Emily, 'when nothing ever suits me? I'm so particular -mamma says so. I'm so, and I can't help it, and nobody ever does do anything quite as I like it; and so I am unhappy all the time.'

'And what if ye did something for somebody else, instead of having everybody else a-serving ye?' said Bridget. 'I works from morning to night, and gets my two dollars a week, and sends the most part of it to me poor old mother in Ireland; and it keeps me jolly-praise be to

God! to think I'm a-comfortin' her old age. Did ye ever think whether ye did anything for anybody?'

No; Emily never had thought of that. From the very first hour that her baby eyes had opened, she had seen all the world on their knees around her, trying to serve and please her. Neither her father nor mother ever spoke or acted as if they expected her to do the slightest service for them. On the contrary, they always spoke as if they must do everything for her; and Bridget's blunt talk now and then was the only intimation the little girl ever got that there was a way to be happy that she knew not of.