"W is a hard letter," said Miss Bidwell, laying down one of the
perpetual stockings with which she seemed always supplied for mending
purposes; "you will have to rip this out again; the first stroke is too
near the letter before it;" and she handed the unhappy sampler back to
the child.

"It's always like that," said Miss Moppet in a tone of exasperation. "I
think a sampler is the very _devil_!"

"Oh," said Miss Bidwell in a shocked voice, "I shall have to report you
as a naughty chit if you use such language."

"Well, it just _is_" said Moppet; "that's what the minister said in his
sermon Sunday week, and you know, Miss Bidwell, that you admired it
extremely, because I heard you tell Pamela so."

"Admired the devil?" said Miss Bidwell. "Child, what are you talking
about?"

"The sermon," said Miss Moppet, breaking her silk for the fourth time;
"the minister said the devil went roaring up and down the earth seeking
whom he might devour. Wouldn't I like to hear him roar. Do you conceive
it is like a bull or a lion's roar?"

"The Bible says a lion," said Miss Bidwell, looking all the more severe
because she was so amused.

"I am truly sorry for that poor devil," said Miss Moppet, heaving a deep
sigh. "Just think how tired he must become, and how much work he must