had been suddenly turned.

"Writing is not easy for me," answered Martha, "and you could do it
so much better than I can. It is a long time since I have written
anything."

"Just give it to me, Martha, and I'll write for you if you will only
tell me what." Cornelli readily took hold of the pen and dipped it
into the bottom of the inkstand.

"I'll tell you about it and then you can write it in your own way; I
am sure that you can do it better than I can," said Martha, quite
relieved. She had been sitting for a long time with a pen in her hand,
absolutely unable to find any beginning.

"You see, Cornelli," she began, "I have been getting along so well
with my work lately that I have been able to buy a bed. For a long
time I have wanted to do that, for I already had a table and two chairs,
besides an old wardrobe. Now I have put them all into my little room
upstairs, so that I can take somebody in for the summer. Sometimes
delicate ladies or children come out of town to the country, and I
could take such good care of them. I am always at home and I could do
my usual work besides. You see, Cornelli, I wanted to put this in the
paper, but I do not know how to do it and how to begin."

"Oh, I'll write it so plainly that somebody is sure to come right
away," Cornelli replied, full of zeal. "But first of all, let us look
at the little room! I am awfully anxious to see it."

Martha was quite willing, so she led the way up a narrow stairway into