week to brighten the rigors of institution life.

Our trustee began an indignant investigation. He wished to
know where I got those flowers, and was visibly relieved when he
learned that I had not spent the institution's money for them.
He next wished to know who Jane might be. I had foreseen that
question and decided to brazen it out.

"My maid," said I.

"Your what?" he bellowed, quite red in the face.

"My maid."

"What is she doing here?"

I amiably went into details. "She mends my clothes, blacks
my boots, keeps my bureau drawers in order, washes my hair."

I really thought the man would choke, so I charitably added
that I paid her wages out of my own private income, and paid five
dollars and fifty cents a week to the institution for her board;
and that, though she was big, she didn't eat much.

He allowed that I might make use of one of the orphans for
all legitimate service.

I explained--still polite, but growing bored--that Jane had
been in my service for many years, and was indispensable.