supposed that I was ridiculing them, and said that I had
represented them as doing a great many foolish things which they had
never thought of. There was no use in attempting to pacify them--I had
thrown away my poetry where it was not appreciated; and Mr. Henshaw
exclaimed in a tone of annoyance: 'Now do, I beg of you, never let me
see you again at the writing-desk! You have done as much mischief with
your pen as other women accomplish with their tongues.' So I never sent
poetry again to other people; but whenever I felt lonely, I sat down and
wrote, and it has really been a great comfort to me. One of these days,
Amy, I shall give this all to you."

When I returned home, the poetry was carefully laid in the bottom of my
trunk; but I have my suspicions that for sometime after Jane kindled the
nursery fire with it. While looking over her things one day. Aunt
Henshaw showed me an old-fashioned pair of ear-rings, which I admired
very much.

"I intended to give these to you, Amy," said she, "but I see that your
ears have not been pierced."

"Why, I thought those holes always grew in people's ears!" said I, in
surprise. "Have I none in mine?"

"No," she replied, "they are always made with a needle, or some sharp
instrument."

"Does it hurt?" I inquired.

"Not much," was her reply, and so the subject dropped, but I still
pursued it in thought.

I fancied myself decked with the ear-rings, and the pleasure I should
experience in showing them to Mammy and Jane; but then on the other
hand, the idea of the needle was anything but agreeable, for I could not
bear the least pain. I wavered for sometime between the advantages and
disadvantages of the operation. This state of mind led me to notice
people's ears much more than I had formerly done; and perceiving that
Sylvia's were adorned with a pair of large gold hoops, I applied to her
for advice.

"Why, Miss Amy!" she exclaimed, in surprise, "you are real shaller, if
you don't have your ears bored after that! Why, I'd made a hole in my
nose in half a minit, if somebody'd only give me a gold ring to put
through it!"

"Who bored _your_ ears, Sylvia?" said I at length.

"Why, I did it myself, to be sure. Any body can do that--jest take a
needle and thread and draw it right through."

I shuddered involuntarily; but just then Sylvia moved her head a little,
and the rings shook and glittered so fascinatingly that I resolved to
become a martyr to the cause of vanity. The col