NO TURN FOR HOUSE-WORK.

RUTH DAVIES was a tall stout girl of twelve, and she had just left school with an excellent character. Her father was a labouring man with a large family; her mother was an active bustling woman, as she had need to be, with so many to do for and so little coming in, for Davies's wages were but from 178. to 18s. a week, and living near London a third of that went for rent.

"I think," said her father, "that it's time Ruth should be earning something; don't seem to me as if she helped you, mother, as much as she might."

"Well," said Mrs. Davies, "you see she never had any turn for house-work, and it's less trouble to me to do a thing myself, than to teach a girl that don't much want to learn, and she's not a bad one, husband, as girls go; don't want to get out in the evening and rake about the streets as so many do, and she'd always the best of characters in school."

At this moment in came Ruth.

"We were just speaking about you, my child," said her father, "and thinking it's time you should be doing something, and not live on the family cupboard."

"Oh I should like to go to service very much," said Ruth cheerily. "I was just going to tell you I hear Mrs. Stammers of the shop, wants a girl to hold her baby, and it's the very thing I should like. I've no turn for house-work; but I'm so fond of babies."

"Well, dear," said her mother, "if that's all you'll have to do, to hold the baby, I hope you may get it;

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but you can't go after the place in that frock-all out at the gathers; if you would but mend your things up a bit you would save many a shilling."

"Oh, I'm sure Letty Hopkins will lend me a frock and hat to go after the place; and if I get it, why I must have some new clothes, somehow."

Ruth borrowed her friend's garments, and Mrs. Stammers engaged her for that day week. She was in high spirits at her prospects. There was a perambulator, and the baby was to be taken every day to Kensington Gardens, which were near, and what could be pleasanter ?

"But now about your clothes," said her mother. "If I do scrape together a few shillings for a gownpiece, can you make it? You were said to be such a good hand at your needle at school, though I never do see you do anything in the mending way at home."

"Mend! I should think not, for I never was taught how should I? But you know I got the stitching prize, and governess said I could whip and gather and seam nicer than any of them."

'But about a new frock; can't you run it up yourself?"

"Why, mother, what are you thinking of? Who is to cut it out, in the first place? I never even see anything cut out. I should just spoil it. It must be put out to be made."

"Well, perhaps Cook, where I wash, may forward me 2s. 6d. of my money; but, dear me, I wonder sometimes what the girls do do at school, they are of no great use at home. However, as I said to father,

you are a good girl in the main, and we'll do all we can for you."

So Ruth went off to her place; so late in the evening that she had only her bread and cheese supper to eat, and then to go to bed amongst the children, of which there were four. Soon after seven Mrs. Stammers appeared.

Why, Ruth, not up yet? Mr. Stammers must be at his office at eight. I hoped you would have lit the fire by this time."

"Please, ma'am," said Ruth, "I thought I was only to hold the baby; I never had any turn for house-work."

"Dear me, child, don't lie there talking such nonsense to me. The children are your chief care, but how are you to wash and dress them while you are in bed? I'll say no more to-day, but you must be alive to-morrow."

Mrs. Stammers kept a small stationer's shop; she got through as much work in five minutes as other people did in ten; but, unlike Ruth's mother, she made those around her work also.

Glad enough was Ruth when she was told to put little Bertie, the baby, into his carriage and take him, and the two least of the others to the Gardens. There Ruth soon made acquaintance with other girls who, like her, possessed babies and perambulators—those excellent machines for neglecting babies. No doubt they are good things for long distances, and enable the children to get to fresher air, and pleasanter playgrounds than if they had to be carried, but it requires more care and thought than most girls pos

sess not to let them be hurtful. Little Bertie had had a careful nurse before Ruth came, who held a parasol over him when he was hot, or if it rained, and never kept him for long together cramped up in his carriage. She used to take him out on her lap, and let him trot about on the grass, and try to catch a ball, or gather daisies; but Ruth was full of talk with her companions, and the baby got tired, and cried incessantly. A woman with a basket of sweetstuff, and some halfpenny toys came up, saying,

"My dear, won't the dear baby like a bit of sweetstuff to stop his crying?"

"No," said Ruth, "I have got no money."

"Never mind, my dear, you will pay me to-morrow. Here are some sugar-balls that are certain to stop his crying; they will make him sleepy; they are no harm; they are what doctors give."

"I wish I could," she said, "for he is very tiresome; but till I get my wages I've not a farthing.” "Well, dear, can't you slip a bit of soap or a few lumps of sugar for me into your pocket to-morrow? See how baby enjoys it."

And, in fact, she put a little ball of brown stuff into its mouth as she spoke. And sure enough it was asleep in ten minutes, and continued to sleep till

she got home.

Why, Bertie, how is this? Ruth, what has tired him so? it's not his time for sleeping, and he seems so heavy."

Ruth did not venture to say what she had done, but felt very unhappy, when, later in the day, the doctor was sent for, for Bertie was sick, and the

doctor said he saw he had taken some sort of sleeping-stuff, and Ruth was questioned. She was a good girl in the main, and saw that she must speak the truth at once.

"Why, sir, baby cried so, and a woman who sold sweets came into the gardens and offered me a sugarball, and said it was no harm, it was what doctors gave."

"Ah!" said the doctor, "I know that woman, and wish I could send her to the treadmill; she deserves it more than many that are there. Now, my girl, let this be a lesson to you, never give a child anything that sends it to sleep, for, in fact, it's poison. So far what she said is true; in case of violent pain in severe illness we do give opium sometimes, but only when we know that the pain must be subdued for fear of worse troubles. It's a mercy in this case the child was sick and got rid of the opium; if it hadn't it would more or less have been stupefied. Don't you often meet with one dull, heavy child in a family, that can hardly be taught anything, or get his own living? In many cases that has come from these wicked sugar-balls, which are given to quiet them, as it is called, and so they do; some are sent to their quiet graves, and to many others life is a burden.'

Ruth cried all the time he talked, and made many a resolution to have nothing to do with "quieting" things again. Bertie was too ill to go to the Gardens for some days; when Ruth next went there she paid the woman 1d., out of her wages, but told her how ill the ball had made the child, and implored her to sell no more, but the woman laughed and said they