I
like housework so well and am so happy at it, that it shows clearly
that I am not a disguised heiress. My proud spirit does not chafe a bit
at having to serve meals and wear a cap (you should see how sweet I
look in a cap). I haven't got the fear on my heart all day that I will
make a mistake in a figure that will rise up and condemn me at the end
of the month as I used to be when I was book-keeping on a high stool,
for the Western Hail and Fire Insurance Company (peace to its ashes!).
"All work is expression," Fra Elbertus says, so why may I not express
myself in blueberry pie and tomato soup?

Mrs. Francis is an appreciative mistress, and she is not so entirely
wrapped up in Browning as to be insensible to a good salad either, I am
glad to say.

One night after we had company and everything had gone off well, Mr.
Francis came out into the kitchen, and looked over his glasses at me.
He opened his mouth twice to speak, but seemed to change his mind. I
knew what was struggling for utterance. Then he laid fifty cents on the
window sill, pointed at it, nodded to me, and went out hurriedly. My
first impulse was to hand it back--then I thought better of it--words
do not come easily to him. So he expressed himself in currency. I put
the money into my purse for a luck penny.

Mrs. Francis is as serene as a summer sea, and can look at you without
knowing you are there. Mr. Francis is a peaceful man, too. He looks at
his wife in a helpless way when she begins to explain the difference
between the Elizabethan and the Victorian poets--I don't believe he
cares a cent for either of them.

Mrs. Francis entertains quite a bit; I like it, too, and I do not go
and cry into the sink because I have to wait on the guests. She
entertains well and is a delightful hostess, but some of the people
whom she entertains do not appreciate her flights of fancy.

I do not like to see them wink at each other, although I know it is
funny to hear Mrs. Francis elaborate on the mother's influence in the
home and the proper way to deal with selfishness in children; but she
means well, and they should remember that, no matter how funny she gets.

April 18th.--She gave me a surprise to-day. She called me upstairs and
read to me a paper she was preparing to read before some society--she
belongs to three or four--on the domestic help problem. Well, it hadn't
very much to do with the domestic help problem, but of course I could
not tell her that so wh