him all about it, feeling as sure that he'd help
me in some way as if I'd heard him say it. Sure enough he did! the
very next day a lady advertised for an apprentice to learn the
dressmaker's trade. I went, and she took me, and I got just in my
right place. I learned fast, and in a year from that time I could fit
as well as she could herself. She offered me good wages to stay and
sew with her, but I was tired of shop life and wanted a bit of a home
of my own, so I rented these rooms, and I have all I can do and more
too. It is a nice pleasant place, I think to myself. It's cool and
comfortable, even if it is two flights. You see I have a north and
south window, and if there isn't a good breeze from one way there is
from the other; here's my bedroom" (opening the door into a
good-sized room with a large window), "blinds too. I can make it as
dark as a pocket; and here's my dining-room, and kitchen all in one;
here the lake water comes in; oh I tell you, I lack for nothing."

"But don't your rooms get all heated up when you cook?" Faith asked.

"Not a bit of it! See here"--calling Faith's attention to what
appeared to be a small light table made of iron. "This is a gasoline
stove, and the man that invented it ought to have every woman that
owns one blessing him as long as he lives, for it's a jewel," and
Mrs. Macpherson turned a screw and the flame flickered and glowed in
one of the burners like a bright star. "Here's my fire all made,
pretty soon I shall cook my dinner; over this burner I'll put my
oven, and bake a potato or two nice and brown in twenty minutes or
so; over the other burner I'll boil my tea-kettle and make my tea,
then I'll clap on the gridiron and cook a bit of steak; nicest way in
the world to cook steak, it is so quick, you know that makes steak
juicy; the quicker you can cook it the better it is."

"Will it bake bread nicely?" Faith asked, growing deeply interested.

"To be sure," and Mrs. Macpherson produced a plump brown loaf. "You
can see it is beautifully done; the least bit over half an hour bakes
my loaves. Oh, there isn't a thing the creature won't do. I can tuck
a chicken in the oven and it comes out done to a turn, or put in a
joint of meat to boil and go on with my sewing, it cooks itself, you
know. I can roast a turkey; last Christmas I roasted one (invited in
a neighbour or two, you know), and you would have thought it came out
of my mother's old-fashioned brick oven, it was done so bea