littler and littler; and O, how nice it would be when she could
do all the work, and Gracie had to sit in mamma's lap and be rocked!

"Flywer'll do some help," said she. "Flywer'll take 'are of g'amma's
things."

While she stood musing thus, with a dreamy smile, and turning the
handle of the mill as fast as it would go round, somebody sprang at
her very unexpectedly. It was Ruth, the kitchen-girl. She seized Katie
by the shoulders, carried her through the air, and set her on her feet
in the sink.

"There, little Mischief," said she, "you'll stay there one while!
We'll see if we can't put a stop to this coffee-grinding! Why, you're
enough to wear out the patience of Job!"

Katie had often heard about Job; she supposed it was something
dreadful, like a lion, or a whale. She looked up at Ruth, and saw her
black eyes flashing and the rosy color trembling in her cheeks. Cruel
Ruth! She did not know Katie was her best friend, working and helping
get dinner as fast as she could. "Ruthie," sobbed she, "you didn't ask
please."

"Well, well, child, I'm in a hurry; and when you set things to flying,
you're enough to wear out the patience of Job."

Job again.

"You've said so two times, Ruthie! Now I don't like you tall, tenny
rate."

This was as harsh language as Katie dared use; but she frowned
fearfully, and a tuft of hair, rising from her head like a waterspout,
made her look so fierce that Ruth seemed to be frightened, and ran
away with her apron up to her face.

The sink was so high that Katie could not get out of it
alone,--"course _indeed_ she couldn't."

"It most makes me 'fraid," said she to herself: "Ruthie's a big woman,
I's a little woman. When I's the biggest I'll put Ruthie in _my_
sink."

Very much comforted by this resolve, she dried her eyes and began to
look about her for more housework. "Let's me see; I'll pump a bushel
o' water."

There was a pail in the sink; so, what should she do but jump into
that, and then jerk the pump-handle up and down, till a fine stream
poured out and sprinkled her all over!

"Sing a song, O sink-spout," sang she, catching her breath: but
presently she began to feel cold.

"O, how it makes me _shivvle_!" said she.

"Katie!" called out a voice.

"Here me are!" gurgled the little one, her mouth under the pump-nose.

When Horace came in she was standing in water up to the tops of her
long white stockings. He took her out, wrung her a little, and set her
on a shel