skirts were soaked to the knees, her pink ribbons were limp, the purple
of the flowers on her hat ran in streaks down the white silk. And yet,
though she was a poor girl and her holiday finery must have been
relatively costly, she made the best of it with a smile and cheerful
words. The other was well sheltered; but she took the disappointment of
her hopes and the possibility of a little spattering from a leaky window
with frowns and fault-finding."

"Cries little Miss Fret,
In a very great pet:
'I hate this warm weather; it's horrid to tan!
It scorches my nose,
And it blisters my toes,
And wherever I go I must carry a fan.'

"Chirps little Miss Laugh:
'Why, I couldn't tell half
The fun I am having this bright summer day!
I sing through the hours,
I cull pretty flowers,
And ride like a queen on the sweet-smelling hay.'"

Happily a new era has of late opened for our worried housekeepers, who
spend their time in "the half-frantic dusting of corners, spasmodic
sweeping, impatient snatching or pushing aside obstacles in the room,
hurrying and skurrying upstairs and down cellar." "It is not," says
Prentice Mulford, "the work that exhausts them,--it is the mental
condition they are in that makes so many old and haggard at forty." All
that is needful now to ease up their burdens is to go to