an electric shock, bringing him involuntarily to his feet, in time to
hear her say:

"It's shabby, but it isn't miserable. I don't believe any place is
that, where there's a family, and enough food to eat and wood to
burn--if the family is happy in itself. Besides, with two hours' work,
and without spending one cent, you could make it much less shabby than
it is; and by saving what you already have, you could stave off
spending in the future."

She pointed, as she spoke, to the cluttered yard before them, to the
unwashed wagons and rusty tools that had not been put away, to the
shed-door half off its hinges, and the unpiled wood tossed carelessly
inside the shed. He reddened, as much at the scorn in her gesture as at
the words themselves, and answered angrily, as many persons do when they
are ashamed:

"That's very true; but when you work just as hard as you can, anyway, you
haven't much spirit left over for the frills."

"Excuse me; I didn't realize they were frills. No business man would
have his office in an untidy condition, because it wouldn't pay; I
shouldn't think it would pay on a farm either. Just as it seems to
me--though, of course, I'm not in a position to judge--that if you sold
all those tubercular grade cows, and bought a few good cattle, and kept
them clean and fed them well, you'd get more milk, pay less for grain,
and not have to work so hard looking after more animals than you can
really handle well."

As she spoke, she began to unfasten her long, frilled, black sleeves, and