t somehow I couldn't succeed as well as I wanted to."

"You wouldn't have that difficulty with Aunt Rachel," said Jack,
roguishly.

Ida, with difficulty, suppressed a laugh.

"I see," said Aunt Rachel, with severe resignation, "that you've taken
to ridiculing your poor aunt again. But it's what I expect. I don't
never expect any consideration in this house. I was born to be a martyr,
and I expect I shall fulfil my destiny. If my own relations laugh at me,
of course I can't expect anything better from other folks. But I sha'n't
be long in the way. I've had a cough for some time past, and I expect
I'm in a consumption."

"You make too much of a little thing, Rachel," said the cooper. "I don't
think Jack meant anything."

"I'm sure, what I said was complimentary," said Jack.

Rachel shook her head incredulously.

"Yes it was. Ask Ida. Why won't you draw Aunt Rachel, Ida? I think she'd
make a capital picture."

"So I will," said Ida, hesitatingly, "if she will let me."

"Now, Aunt Rachel, there's a chance for you," said Jack. "I advise you
to improve it. When it's finished, it can be hung up at the Art Rooms,
and who knows but you may secure a husband by it?"

"I wouldn't marry," said his aunt, firmly compressing her lips, "not if
anybody'd go down on their knees to me."

"Now I am sure, Aunt Rachel, that's cruel in you."

"There ain't any man that I'd trust my happiness to."

"She hasn't any to trust," observed Jack, _sotto voce_.

"They're all deceivers," pursued Rachel, "the best of 'em. You can't
believe what one of 'em says. It would be a great deal better if people
never married at all."

"Then where would the world be a hundred years hence?" suggested her
nephew.

"Come to an end, most likely," said Aunt Rachel; "and I don't know but
that would be the best thing. It's growing more and more wicked every
day."

It will be seen that no great change has come over Miss Rachel Crump
during the years that have intervened. She takes the same disheartening
view of human nature and the world's prospects, as ever. Nevertheless,
her own hold upon the world seems as strong as ever. Her appetite
continues remarkably good, and although she frequently expresses herself
to the effect that there is little use in living, probably she would be
as unwilling to leave the world as any one. I am not sure that she does
not derive as much enjoyment from her melancholy as other people from
their cheerfulness. Unfortunatel