Katy worked with a will for the next two days. Twenty times, at least,
she went into the blue room to make sure that nothing was forgotten;
repeating, as if it had been a lesson in geography: "Bath towels, face
towels, matches, soap, candles, cologne, extra blanket, ink." A nice
little fire was lighted in the bedroom on Friday afternoon, and a big,
beautiful one in the parlor, which looked very pleasant with the lamp
lit and Clover's geraniums and china roses in the window. The tea-
table was set with the best linen and the pink-and-white china.
Debby's muffins were very light. The crab-apple jelly came out of
its mould clear and whole, and the cold chicken looked appetizing,
with its green wreath of parsley. There was stewed potato, too, and,
of course, oysters. Everybody in Burnet had oysters for tea when
company was expected. They were counted a special treat; because
they were rather dear, and could not always be procured. Burnet
was a thousand miles from the sea, so the oysters were of the tin-
can variety. The cans gave the oysters a curious taste,--tinny, or
was it more like solder? At all events, Burnet people liked it, and
always insisted that it was a striking improvement on the flavor
which oysters have on their native shores. Every thing was as nice
as could be, when Katy stood in the dining-room to take a last look
at her arrangements; and she hoped papa would be pleased, and that
mamma's cousin would think her a good housekeeper.

"I don't want to have on my other jacket," observed Phil, putting his
head in at the door. "Need I? This is nice."

"Let me see," said Katy, gently turning him round. "Well, it does
pretty well; but I think I'd rather you should put on the other, if
you don't mind much. We want every thing as nice as possible, you