not outrun half-a-crown, I reckon:
and having paid the same at my month end, I shall just worry the life
out of _Father_ till he give me an other. So here goes it!

Well, the first thing I think is,--Why must everything pleasant be set
aside while _Monday_? _Father_ saith happiness and wickedness be not
alike, though (quoth he) some folk think so much. Now, it seems me that
happiness and holiness should be the same thing. Why should a matter
not be right simply by reason that I like it? I want to know, and I
will ask somebody, some of these days.

Howbeit, of one thing am I assured,--namely, that it cannot be wicked to
write on _Sunday_ what it is not wicked to do. So I shall tell what we
did.

Now, there some folk are so queer! They will take down a gown, and
shake out the folds, and talk an half-hour o'er it,--how this gimp
should be better to run that way, and next week the bottom must needs be
fresh bound: all of a _Sunday_. But to stick a neeld in, and make the
gimp run that way, and fresh bind the bottom,--good lack! they should
count you a very heathen an' you asked them. Now, I want to know how
the one is a bit better than the other. I cannot see a pin to choose
betwixt them.

Well! we gat out of bed this morrow--I reckon that is the first thing,
beyond opening one's eyes.

_Nell_ is alway the first up, and _Edith_ the last. She is rare hard to
wake, is _Edith_; or rather, not to wake, but to make her rise up when
she is woke. She takes a deal of shaking and talking to, some mornings
specially. _Nell_ does the talking, and I do the shaking: and I warrant
you, I give it her.

Howbeit, we were all up, at long last--and if one of us be late of a
_Sunday_ morrow, _Father_ looks as if we had brake his heart. Our
_Sunday_ gowns at this season be of green satin, of sixteen shillings
the yard,--eh, good lack! should I have set that down of a _Sunday_?
Well, never mind; 'tis now done--and furred with pampilion [an unknown
species of fur]. Our out-door hoods be black velvet: and in this gear
went we to church, at _Keswick_. And I would with all mine heart we had
a church nearer unto us than three weary miles, though every body saith
'tis mighty near. _Father_ rid on _Favelle_, with _Edith_ behind him;
and _Mother_ on _Garnet_, behind Master _Stuyvesant_; and _Nell_ and I
on _Cowslip_; and Aunt _Joyce_ of her own hackney, that is called
_Hermit_, with old _Matthias_. Cousin _Bess_ come ambling aft