ting up to go and look after
her amphibious offspring herself, when her daughter cut her off
short with, "Nonsense, mamma, you know you are not to do any such
thing! I must go, that's all, or they won't have a decent boot or
stocking left among them." Off she went with another bang, while
her mother began blaming herself for having yielded in haste to the
persuasions of the little ones, oblivious of the boots, thus
sacrificing Jane's happy morning with Avice. My mother showed
herself shocked by the tone in which Margaret had let herself be
hectored, and this brought a torrent of almost tearful apologies
from the poor dear thing, knowing she did not keep up her authority
or make herself respected as would be good for her girl, but if we
only knew how devoted Jane was, and how much there was to grind and
try her temper, we should not wonder that it gave way sometimes.
Indeed it was needful to turn away the subject, as Margaret was the
last person we wished to distress.

Jane could have shown no temper to the children, for at dinner a
roly-poly person of five years old, who seems to absorb all the fat
in the family, made known that he had had a very jolly day, and he
loved cousin Avice very much indeed, and sister Janie very much
indeeder, and he could with difficulty be restrained from an
expedition to kiss them both then and there.

The lost box was announced while we were at dinner, and Jane is gone
with her faithful Avice to unpack it. Her mother would have done it
and sent her boating with the rest, but submitted as usual when
commanded to adhere to the former plan of driving with grandmamma.
These Druce children must be excellent, according to their mother,
but they are terribly brusque and bearish. They are either seen and
not heard, or not seen and heard a great deal too much. Even Jane
and Meg, who ought to know better, keep up a perpetual undercurrent
of chatter and giggle, whatever is going on, with any one who will
share it with them.

10.--I am more and more puzzled about the new reading of the Fifth
Commandment. None seem to understand it as we used to do. The
parents are content to be used as equals, and to be called by all
sorts of absurd names; and though grandmamma is always kindly and
attentively treated, there is no reverence for the relationship. I
heard Charley call her 'a jolly old party,' and Metelill respond
that she was 'a sweet old thing.' Why, we should have thought such
expressio