up from the cellar
singing "Bounding Billows," with a swashing and scrubbing accompaniment
which suggested that she was actually enjoying a "life on the ocean
wave." Merry, in her neat cap and apron, stood smiling over her work
as she deftly rolled and clipped, filled and covered, finding a certain
sort of pleasure in doing it well, and adding interest to it by crimping
the crust, making pretty devices with strips of paste and star-shaped
prickings of the fork.

"Good-will giveth skill," says the proverb, and even particular Mrs.
Grant was satisfied when she paused to examine the pastry with her
experienced eye.

"You are a handy child and a credit to your bringing up, though I do say
it. Those are as pretty pies as I'd wish to eat, if they bake well, and
there's no reason why they shouldn't."

"May I make some tarts or rabbits of these bits? The boys like them,
and I enjoy modelling this sort of thing," said Merry, who was trying to
mould a bird, as she had seen Ralph do with clay to amuse Jill while the
bust was going on.

"No, dear; there's no time for knick-knacks to-day. The beets ought to
be on this minute. Run and get 'em, and be sure you scrape the carrots
well."

Poor Merry put away the delicate task she was just beginning to like,
and taking a pan went down cellar, wishing vegetables could be grown
without earth, for she hated to put her hands in dirty water. A word of
praise to Roxy made that grateful scrubber leave her work to poke about
in the root-cellar, choosing "sech as was pretty much of a muchness,
else they wouldn't bile even;" so Merry was spared that part of the
job, and went up to scrape and wash without complaint, since it was for
father. She was repaid at noon by the relish with which he enjoyed his
dinner, for Merry tried to make even a boiled dish pretty by arranging
the beets, carrots, turnips, and potatoes in contrasting colors, with
the beef hidden under the cabbage leaves.

"Now, I'll rest and read for an hour, then I'll rake my garden, or run
down town to see Molly and get some seeds," she thought to herself, as
she put away the spoons and glasses, which she liked to wash, that they
might always be clear and bright.

"If you've done all your own mending, there's a heap of socks to be
looked over. Then I'll show you about darning the tablecloths. I do hate
to have a stitch of work left over till Monday," said Mrs. Grant, who
never took naps, and prided herself on sitting down to h