away rapidly, which is a comfort. One evening we were sitting,
rather disconsolately, in our room, and I was reading out the
advertisements of country board in a newspaper, when in rushed Dr.
Heare--one of our old friends. He was so full of something that he
had to say that he didn't even ask us how we were. In fact, he
didn't appear to want to know.

"I tell you what it is," said he, "I have found just the very thing
you want."

"A canal-boat?" I cried.

"Yes," said he, "a canal-boat."

"Furnished?" asked Euphemia, her eyes glistening.

"Well, no," answered the doctor, "I don't think you could expect
that."

"But we can't live on the bare floor," said Euphemia; "our house
MUST be furnished."

"Well, then, I suppose this won't do," said the doctor, ruefully,
"for there isn't so much as a boot-jack in it. It has most things
that are necessary for a boat, but it hasn't anything that you
could call house-furniture; but, dear me, I should think you could
furnish it very cheaply and comfortably out of your book."

"Very true," said Euphemia, "if we could pick out the cheapest
things and then get some folks to buy a lot of the books."