since it was established, the school had been in charge of a very
singular little old woman. Nobody had ever known where she came from.
The benevolent lady who founded the institution, had brought her to
the door one morning in her coach, and the neighbors had seen the
little brown, wizened creature, with a most extraordinary gown on,
alight and enter. This was all any one had ever known about her. In
fact, the benevolent lady had come upon her in the course of her
travels in a little German town, sitting in a garret window, behind a
little box-garden of violets, sewing patchwork. After that, she became
acquainted with her, and finally hired her to superintend her school.
You see, the benevolent lady had a very tender heart, and though she
wanted to reform the naughty children of her native city, and have
them grow up to be good men and women, she did not want them to be
shaken, nor have their ears cuffed; so the ideas advanced by the
strange little old woman just suited her.

"Set 'em to sewing patchwork," said this little old woman, sewing
patchwork vigorously herself as she spoke. She was dressed in a
gown of bright-colored patchwork, with a patchwork shawl over her
shoulders. Her cap was made of tiny squares of patchwork, too. "If
they are sewing patchwork," went on the little old woman, "they can't
be in mischief. Just make 'em sit in little chairs and sew patchwork,
boys and girls alike. Make 'em sit and sew patchwork, when the bees
are flying over the clover, out in the bright sunlight, and the great
bluewinged butterflies stop with the roses just outside the windows,
and the robins are singing in the cherry-trees, and they'll turn over
a new leaf, you'll see!" sewing away with a will.

[Illustration: THE PATCHWORK WOMAN.]