w," said Miss Redwood, as she put
away her work in its basket. "You can _think_ of doing it; but if you
ever come to doing it, you will find it is _now_."

"But is it convenient?"

"La, child, I don't know what people mean by convenient. You look at it
one way, and there is nothing convenient; and you look at it another
way, and there is nothing but what is. Hang your things over that
chair; and I'll put an apron on you."

"But which way does it look this afternoon, Miss Redwood?"

The housekeeper laughed, and kissed Tilly, whom she was arraying in a
great check apron, big enough to cover her.

"It is just how you choose to take it," she said. "I declare I'm sorry
for the folks as is tied to convenience; they don't get the right good
of their life. Why, honey, what isn't my convenience is somebody else's
convenience, maybe. I want it to be sunshine very often, so as I kin
dry my clothes, when the farmers want it to be rain to make their corn
and cabbages grow. It is sure to be convenient for somebody."

"But I want it to be convenient for you, this afternoon," said Matilda,
wistfully.

"Well, 'tis," said the housekeeper. "There--wash your hands in that
bowl, dear; and here's a clean towel for you. A body as wants to have
things convenient, had better not be a minister's housekeeper. No, the
place is nice enough," she went on, as she saw Matilda's eye glance
around the kitchen; "'tain't that; but I always think convenient means
having your own way; and _that_ nobody need expect to do at the
parsonage. Just so sure as I make pot pie, Mr. Richmond'll hev to go to
a funeral, and it's spiled or lost, for he's no time to eat it; and I
never cleaned up that hall and steps yet, but an army of boots and
shoes came tramping over it out of the dirt; when if it _wants_
cleaning, it'll get leave to be without a foot crossing it all the
afternoon. And if it's bakin' day, I have visitors, and have to run
between them and the oven, till I don't know which end is the parlour;
and that's the way, Tilly; and I don't know no better way but to
conclude that somebody else's convenience is yourn--and then you'll
live in clover. The minister had to preach to me a good while before I
could see it, though. Now, honey, sift your flour;--here it is. Kin you
do it?"

Matilda essayed to do it, and the housekeeper looked on.

"The damper is turned," she said; "we'll have the oven hot by the time
the cake is ready. Now, dear, what's going i