tell me how it looks?"

"O," said Prudy, peeping into it, "your eye looks very well, ma'am;
don't you '_xcuse_ it; it looks well enough for _me_."

"Ahem!" said Mrs. Piper, laughing, and settling her head-dress, which
was Susy's red scarf: "are your feet warm, Mrs. Shotwell?"

"Thank you, ma'am," replied Prudy, "I don't feel 'em cold. O, dear, if
your husband was all deaded up, I guess you'd cry, Mrs. Piper."

Susy and Flossy looked at each other, and smiled. They thought Prudy
seemed more like herself than they had known her for a long time.

"You must go right out of the parlor, Betsey," said Mrs. Piper,
flourishing the poker; "I mean you, Susy--the parlor isn't any place for
hired girls."

"Ma'am?" said Susy, inclining her head to one side, in order to hear
better.

"O, dear! the plague of having a deaf girl!" moaned Mrs. Piper. "You
don't know how trying it is, Mrs. Shotwell! That hired girl, Betsey,
hears with her elbows, Mrs. Shotwell; I verily believe she does!"

"O, no, ma'am," replied Prudy; "I guess she doesn't hear with her
elbows, does she? If she _heard_ with her elbows, she wouldn't have to
ask you over again!"

This queer little speech set Mr. Piper and his wife, and their servant,