attract suitors. Every little while Dame Betsy invited all the
neighboring housewives to tea; then she opened the chests and unrolled
the shining lengths of linen, perfumed with lavender and rosemary. "My
dear daughters will have all this, and more also, when they marry," she
would remark. The housewives would go home and mention it to their sons,
for they themselves were tempted by the beautiful linen; but there it
would end. The sons would not go to woo Dame Betsy's homely, ill-natured
daughters.

Dorothy spun as fast as she was able; Dame Betsy kept a sharp watch upon
her as she stirred the stew. Dorothy wanted some of the stew for her
supper. It had a delicious odor, and she was very faint and hungry. She
did not have a great deal to eat at any time, as she lived principally
upon the scraps from the table, and the daughters were all large eaters.
She also worked very hard, and never had any time to play. She was a
poor child whom Dame Betsy had taken from the almshouse, and she had no
relatives but an old grandmother. She had very few kind words said to
her during the day, and she used often to cry herself to sleep at night.

Presently Dame Betsy went down to the store to buy some pepper to put in
the stew, but as she went out of the door she spoke to the eldest
daughter, and told her to go into the house and mend a rent in her
apron. "Since you were too lazy to go to walk with your sisters you must
go into the house and mend your apron," said she. The eldest daughter
pouted, but she made no reply. Just as soon as her mother was out of
hearing she called Dorothy. "Dorothy, come here a minute!" she cried,
imperatively. Dorothy left her wheel and went to the door. "Look here,"
said the eldest daughter, "I have one honey-cake left, and I have eaten
all I want. I will give you this if you will mend my apron for me."

Dorothy eyed the honey-cake wistfully, but she replied that she did not
dare to leave her spinning to mend the apron.

"Why can't you mend it in the night?" asked the eldest daughter.

"I will do that," replied Dorothy, eagerly, and she held out her hand
for the honey-cake. Just as she did so she saw the little boy that lived
next door peeping through his fence. His beautiful little face, with his
red cheeks and black eyes, looked, through the pickets, like a
damask-rose. Dorothy ran swiftly over to him with her honey-cake. "You
shall have half of it," said she, and she quickly broke the cake in
halves,