smiling graciously around the dismayed circle of her guests. "The book
has been in the library this long time past, and observing with regret
that only its first fifty pages had been cut, I caught at this invaluable
opportunity to make you further acquainted with it."

Mr. Webb now came forward, a thick, green-bound volume in his hand, and a
look on his face as if he were about to open the proceedings with a
prayer, but Mrs. Upjohn held up her hand.

"One moment, please, before we begin. We ladies are so unaccustomed to
sitting with idle hands, even when listening to so absorbing a theme as
the virtues of this truly excellent Christian wife and mother, that I
thought it would be a kindness to ourselves to provide some simple work
which should occupy our fingers and at the same time be in itself a
worthy object of industry. Maria, my dear."

The silence in the room was appalling; one could almost hear the shiver
of apprehension running down the silk-and muslin-clad backs. The sign was
given, however, by the docile Maria, and immediately two enormous baskets
were brought in: one, the smaller, containing every possible implement
for unlimited sewing by unlimited hands; the other, of alarming
dimensions, filled to overflowing with shapeless and questionable
garments of a canton-flannel coarse, so yellow, so indestructible, so
altogether unwearable and hideous, that had it been branded "charity" in
flaming letters, its object could not have been more plainly designated.
Mrs. Upjohn lifted the top article and unfolded it lovingly. It was a
night-dress, atoning in lavishness of material for deficiency in grace of
make, and would have been a loose fit for the wife of the giant Chang.

"These, ladies," she said, "as you will have guessed, are for the winter