once a year.

Melissa had something of an advantage over her mistress in that she
received wages and was entitled to an afternoon off every fortnight.
Mrs. Bingle did quite as much work about the house, ate practically
the same food, slept not half so soundly, had all the worry of making
both ends meet, practised a rigid and necessary economy, took no
afternoons off, and all without pecuniary compensation--wherein rests
support for the contention that Melissa had the better of her mistress
when all is said and done. Obviously, therefore, Mrs. Bingle was not
as well off as her servant. True, she sat in the parlour while Melissa
sat in the kitchen, but to offset this distinction, Melissa could sing
over her pans and dishes.

Mr. Bingle, good soul, insisted on keeping a servant, despite the
strain on his purse, for no other reason than that he couldn't bear
the thought of leaving Mrs. Bingle alone all day while he was at the
bank. (Lest there should be some apprehension, it should be explained
that he was a bookkeeper at a salary of one hundred dollars a month,
arrived at after long and faithful service, and that Melissa had but
fifteen dollars a month, food and bed.) Melissa was company for Mrs.
Bingle, and her unfailing good humour extended to Mr. Bingle when he
came home to dinner, tired as a dog and in need of cheer. She joined
in the table-talk with unresented freedom and she never failed to
laugh heartily over Mr. Bingle's inspired jokes. Altogether, Melissa
was well worth her wage. She was sunshine and air to the stifled
bookkeeper and his wife.

And now, for the third time, she was bringing the five rollicking
Sykeses to the little flat beyond Washington Square, and for the