a canal-boat, and could not, in the nature of things, have been a
permanent home."

"No," said I, "it could not have been permanent. But, in many
respects, it was a delightful home. The very name of it brings
pleasant thoughts."

"It was a nice name," said Euphemia, "and I'll tell you what we
might do: Let us call this place Rudder Grange--the New Rudder
Grange! The name will do just as well for a house as for a boat."

I agreed on the spot, and the house was christened.

Our household was small; we had a servant--a German woman; and we
had ourselves, that was all.

I did not do much in the garden; it was too late in the season.
The former occupant had planted some corn and potatoes, with a few
other vegetables, and these I weeded and hoed, working early in the
morning and when I came home in the afternoon. Euphemia tied up
the rose-vines, trimmed the bushes, and with a little rake and hoe
she prepared a flower-bed in front of the parlor-window. This
exercise gave us splendid appetites, and we loved our new home more
and more.

Our German girl did not suit us exactly at first, and day by day
she grew to suit us less. She was a quiet, kindly, pleasant
creature, and delighted in an out-of-door life. She was as willing
to weed in the garden as she was to cook or wash. At first I was
very much pleased with this, because, as I remarked to Euphemia,