before strangers, and this made me extremely uncomfortable.

"Do you call this cream?" was the angry interrogation of Mrs. Jones,
as the girl returned with the sugar, pushing towards her the
cream-jug, which she had lifted from the table as she spoke.

"Yes, ma'am," was replied.

"Look at it, and see, then."

"It's the cream," said the girl.

"If that's cream, I never want to see milk. Here! take it away and
bring me the cream."

The girl looked confused and distressed. But she took the cream-jug
and went down-stairs with it.

"That's just the way they always do!" said Mrs. Jones; leaning back
in her chair. "I really get out of all patience, sometimes."

In a little while the girl returned.

"It's the cream, ma'am, as I said. Here's the milk." And she
presented two vessels.

Mrs. Jones took both from her hands with an ill-natured jerk. Sure
enough, it was as the girl had said.

"Such cream!" fell from the lips of our hostess, as she commenced