comfortable, and she partly succeeded; and at last Myra, the delicate
suffering creature, fell asleep, and Lettice slumbered like a child."

How thankful ought we to be for kind parents, a comfortable home, and a
good fire in a cold night. I will tell you in the next story what
Lettice did with her work.




LETTICE TAKING HOME THE WORK.


Early in the morning, before it was light, and while the twilight
gleamed through the curtainless windows, Lettice was up, dressing
herself by the aid of the light which gleamed from the street lamp into
the window. She combed her hair with modest neatness, then opened the
draw with much precaution, lest she should disturb poor Myra, who still
slumbered on the hard mattress--drew out a shawl and began to fold it as
if to put it on.

"Alas!" said Lettice, "this will not do--it is threadbare, timeworn, and
has given way in two places." She turned it, and unfolded it, but it
would not do. It was so shabby that she was actually ashamed to be seen
with it in the street. She put it aside, and took the liberty of
borrowing Myra's, who was now asleep. She knew Myra would be awful cold
when she got up, and would need it. But she must go with the work that
morning. She thought first of preparing the fire, so that Myra, when she
arose, would only have to light the match; but as she went to the box
for coal she saw, with terror, how low the little store of fuel was, and