novel duties than in the regular work of the house."

"Now, don't discourage the girl, my dear," she said, "for she is of
the greatest use to me, and I don't want you to be throwing cold
water about like some people."

"Not even if I throw it out of Pomona's little door, I suppose."

"No. Don't throw it at all. Encourage people. What would the
world be if everybody chilled our aspirations and extraordinary
efforts? Like Fulton's steamboat."

"All right," I said; "I'll not discourage her."

It was now getting late in the season. It was quite too cool to
sit out on deck in the evening, and our garden began to look
desolate.

Our boarder had wheeled up a lot of fresh earth, and had prepared a
large bed, in which he had planted turnips. They made an excellent
fall crop, he assured us.

From being simply cool it began to be rainy, and the weather grew
decidedly unpleasant. But our boarder bade us take courage. This
was probably the "equinoctial," and when it was over there would be
a delightful Indian summer, and the turnips would grow nicely.

This sounded very well, but the wind blew up cold at night, and
there was a great deal of unpleasant rain.