Mother. Well, you are in want of a hardship when that's one. What do you have for supper?

Letty. Oh, such stupid suppers, and dinners too! everlasting mutton and potatoes; beef on Sundays. Oh, how I long for a bit of broiled bacon, like I had at home! And then, only think, we are allowanced ! which sounds very mean for such a large family. Mrs. Wilkins gives me so much tea and sugar, and I have half a pound of butter a week.

Mother. But you have enough?

Letty. Well, I have; but it seems so strange, with such rich people as they are, why we may not all go and help ourselves. And we can't go out for a walk without asking leave, as if we were a parcel of children! Nor may we talk to any friends we meet out, nor take the children into any houses. I only just ran with Emly to Patty Larkins, to show her her new hat and frock, and she kissed her, and Mrs. Norris said it must never happen again. As if Patty could have hurt the child!

Mother. From beginning to end, you talk like an ignorant child, that don't know what service is, and yet won't be taught. It worrits me to death to hear you. If you throw yourself out of place, you will die in a workhouse, just as sure as you are born. I think you must have met with those that have given you very bad advice, or you never could have been so foolish. I shall not encourage you, however, and your father will be dreadfully vexed too-so hard as he works-to see you care so little to get off his hands. Letty. Oh, mother! I don't mean to do that, and I want to be a good girl, only I feel so disappointed.

I thought that I should be so happy, in that fine house, with such lots of servants and plenty to eat and drink; and I am put about, and sent about, and don't seem to do as I like all day long.

Mother. Because, dear child, you thought you were going to be a mistress, and it turns out you are a servant. But, depend upon it, if you changed places with your mistress to-morrow you would find she had her troubles too.

Letty. I should like to try, anyhow. She, who can go where she likes, and have what she likes, all day long! Oh! mother, she can't be unhappy.

Mother. Don't you think she was unhappy when her baby died, or when Mr. Stanley had the fever, and almost died too? No, my child; happiness don't lie that way,

Letty. I wish I knew then which way it does lie. Mother. You used to be a good one at your lessons at school. Don't you remember something about doing your duty, and getting your living, in the state of life to which it has pleased God to call you? Now He has called you to be a servant, and there's plenty of happiness to be had that way. I know it, for I was one myself, and don't want my girls to be anything else; but it must be by doing your duty, not having your own way. God sent us all into the world to work somehow.

Letty. Well, I suppose what you say is true; but nothing can make me like being ordered about by another servant. It does put me out, and there's the long and short of it.

Mrs. Norris. Good evening, Mrs. Smith; mistress wished me to call upon you this evening to speak about Letty.

Mrs. Smith. Oh, Mrs. Norris! that girl does vex me so. I have told her it will break heart if you send her away—girls are so trying!

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Mrs. Norris. Oh, don't you flurry yourself, my good woman; mistress has no thought of such a thing; but Letty don't seem to settle, or feel herself contented, and so I sent her to see you on Sunday.

Mrs. Smith. She has nothing in the world to complain of, that I can see. I am sorry now that I let her go to Mrs. Jones's, where she went as company to Mrs. Jones more than anything, for she don't keep a servant; but, feeling poorly, she said Letty might come and hold the baby, and I think that set

her up.

Mrs. Norris. Very likely, and Letty, in many ways, is a very nice girl. She always keeps to the truth, which I care about more than most things. She is very good-tempered with the children, and would do very well, but for one fault-she can't bear to be spoken to. Now, Mrs. Smith, you are very sensible that girls can't know things out of their own heads, and that babies and little children require a deal of care, pretty dears; my heart often aches to see how they are neglected by the slips of girls, who think of nothing but dress and nonsense. Now Letty isn't one of that sort; she's steady enough, 1 dare say; but she can't know gentlefolks' ways, not if she was a conjuror, unless she's told.

Mrs. Smith. Very true, ma'am; I'm always telling

her so. But, to speak my mind, I'm afraid she has met with those that uphold her in those ideas, or she'd never be so headstrong.

Mrs. Norris. Well, she's had a caution in Jack Wilton. That beggar-boy told the coachman the other day he wasn't going to be his slave. Master overheard him, and told him to pull off his livery that very minute, paid him his wages, and sent him off. I don't know what he put on to go away in. Mrs. Smith. Served him right.

Mrs. Norris. It did; but I felt sorry for the friendless boy, too. You see, this is what it is: girls and boys don't know what life is; they only care for the shoe that pinches at the moment, and don't look forward: but you and I were young once, and must make allowance for them. But what I came to say is, that we are going to the sea-side for a month, and mistress thinks Letty won't be wanted, as the under-housemaid will do for me there. She will give her board wages, but she thinks she had better come home; or, perhaps, you could find her a temporary place. And you'll tell her, that when she comes back, she must make up her mind to take orders from me without tossing her head, or flouncing about; for if she won't, there's others that will.

Mrs. Smith. Thank you, ma'am; I think I know of a place-of-all-work, where she can go for a month; and that will bring her to her senses.

Letty. Oh, mother! when will Stanley's people come back?

Mother. Who do you mean by Stanley's people? Mr. and Mrs. Stanley?

Letty. Yes, to be sure. I never thought to long so to get back to prim Mrs. Norris; but I do think, if I'm much longer at the Badsdons, I shall go crazy. Mother. What's the matter, now ? are there too many rules, there?

Letty. Oh, no, I wish there were. There's ten children, who all do as they like, and I have to cook and clean; my work is never done; and the place is always in a dirty muddle. The boys are so rude, and call me all the names that ever you heard. My mistress only laughs when I complain, and says hard words break no bones; and if the boys are tiresome, why don't I slap them?

Mother. I hope you won't; they are more likely to slap you. But, my dear, you didn't like Mrs. Norris's way of bringing up children. Does Mrs. Badsdon please you better ?

Letty. Oh, they are so many savages compared ; and so dirty! My back is almost broken with all I have to do. Mistress scolds at me all day, and I would give all the world to get back. Do you think Mrs. Norris will let me ?

Mother. Now, child, you have bought a little experience; and having paid for it, I hope you will keep it. You see that it may be a much easier and better thing to have a servant over you who knows her business, than a mistress that don't.

Letty. And this is the first five minutes I can call my own since I went there. Sundays are just like work-days, or worse; for they have company,