has the undone
duties of seven years--World count--to perform. Let her set about
paying off her debt at once, and stop only when the account is
squared;" whereupon Betty was again whisked off, and had not even time
to guess where, before she found herself in a place that reminded her
strangely of home and yet was not home at all. Then a wearisome round
of tasks began.

She picked up pins, she opened doors, she shut windows, she raised
shades, she closed shutters, she ran errands, she delivered messages,
she practised scales, she studied lessons, she set her doll-house in
order and replaced her toys, she washed her face and brushed her hair,
she picked currants and stoned raisins, she hung up her skipping-rope
and fastened her sash; and so she went on from one thing to another
until she was almost ready to cry with weariness and fatigue. Half the
things she did she had forgotten she had ever promised to do. But she
had sent them into By-and-by, and here they were to be done, and do
them she must. On and on she went, until after a while the tasks she
had to perform began to gain a more familiar look, and she recognized
them as being unkept promises of quite a recent date. She dusted her
room, she darned her stockings, she mended her apron, she fed her bird,
she wrote a letter, she read her Bible; and at last, after an endless
space and when tears of real anguish were coursing down her cheeks, she
found herself amusing the baby, and discovered that she had come to the
last of her long line of duties and was cancelling her debt to
By-and-by.

As soon as all was finished she felt herself being hurried, still
sobbing and crying, back to the place from which she had started, and
on entering heard the same voice she had listened to before, say,--

"Betty Bleecker's account is squared. Let a receipted bill be given
her; advise her to run up no more accounts, and send her home."

At these words Betty wept afresh, but not now from sorrow, but from
gladness at the thought of returning home. And before she could even
realize it, she was standing beside Mr. Bombus again, with something in
her hand which she clutched tightly and which proved to be a signed
receipt for her debt to By-and-by. Then she heard her companion say,--

"Like to look about a bit before you leave? By-and-by's a busy place;
don't you think so?"

And Betty replied promptly, "Oh, no, sir--yes, sir--not at all, sir--if
you please, sir;" quite too f