third the distance around, then fasten inside a canvas or duck seat,
below which the barrel is filled with bran.

A neat little mackerel tub makes a most appropriate foot-stool for this
chair, and looks so unconventional and rustic that it wins every one at
once. Such a chair should also have a limited number of tidies on its
surface. Otherwise it might give too much satisfaction. A good style of
inexpensive tidy is made by poking holes in some heavy, strong goods,
and then darning up these holes with something else. The darned tidy
holds its place better, I think, and is more frequently worn away on the
back of the last guest than any other.

This list might be prolonged almost indefinitely, and I should be glad
to write my own experience in the line of experiment, if it were not for
the danger of appearing egotistical. For instance, I once economized in
the matter of paper-hanging, deciding that I would save the
paper-hanger's bill and put the money into preferred trotting stock.

So I read a recipe in a household hint, which went on to state how one
should make and apply paste to wall paper, how to begin, how to apply
the paper, and all that. The paste was made by uniting flour, water and
glue in such a way as to secure the paper to the wall and yet leave it
smooth, according to the recipe. First the walls had to be "sized,"
however.

I took a tape-measure and sized the walls.

Next I began to prepare the paste and cook some in a large milk-pan. It
looked very repulsive indeed, but it looked so much better than it
smelled, that I did not mind. Then I put about five cents' worth of it
on one roll of paper, and got up on a chair to begin. My idea was to
apply it to the wall mostly, but the chair tipped, and so I papered the
piano and my wife on the way down. My wife gasped for breath, but soon
tore a hole through the paper so she could breathe, and then she laughed
at me. That is the reason I took another end of the paper and repapered
her face. I can not bear to have any one laugh at me when I am myself
unhappy.

It was good paste, if you merely desired to disfigure a piano or a wife,
but otherwise it would not stick at all. I did not like it. I was mad
about it. But my wife seemed quite stuck on it. She hasn't got it all
out of her hair yet.

[Illustration: _My idea was to apply it to the wall mostly, but the
chair tipped, and so I papered the piano and my wife on the way down_]
(Page 36)

Then a man droppe