with her stores of
new knowledge.

"I guess she's learned Shampuashuh ain't much of a place," the elder
sister remarked further.

"She's been spellin' her lesson backwards, then. Shampuashuh's a
first-rate place."

"But we've no grand people here. We don't eat off silver dishes, nor
drink out o' gold spoons; and our horses can go without little
lookin'-glasses over their heads," Charity proceeded.

"Do you think there's any use in all that, Lois?" said her aunt.

"I don't know, aunt Anne," Lois answered with a little hesitation.

"Then I'm sorry for ye, girl, if you are left to think such nonsense.
Ain't our victuals as good here, as what comes out o' those silver
dishes?"

"Not always."

"Are New York folks better cooks than we be?"

"They have servants that know how to do things."

"Servants! Don't tell me o' no servants' doin's! What can they make
that I can't make better?"

"Can you make a souffle, aunt Anne?"

"What's that?"

"Or biscuit glace?"

"_Biskwee glassy?_" repeated the indignant Shampuashuh lady. "What do
you mean, Lois? Speak English, if I am to understand you."

"These things have no English names."

"Are they any the better for that?"

"No; and nothing could make them better. They are as good as it is
possible for anything to be; and there are a hundred other things
equally good, that we know nothing about here."

"I'd have watched and found out how they were done," said the elder
woman, eyeing Lois with a mingled expression of incredulity and
curiosity and desire, which it was comical to see. Only nobody there
perceived the comicality. They sympathized too deeply in the feeling.

"I would have watched," said Lois; "but I could not go down into the
kitchen for it."

"Why not?"

"Nobody goes into the kitchen, except to give orders."

"Nobody goes into the kitchen!" cried Mrs. Marx, sinking down again
into a chair. She had risen to go.

"I mean, except the servants."

"It's the shiftlessest thing I ever heard o' New York. And do you think
_that's_ a nice way o' livin', Lois?"

"I am afraid I do, aunt Anne. It is pleasant to have plenty of time for
other things."

"What other things?"

"Reading."

"Reading! La, child! I can read more books in a year than is good for
me, and do all my own work, too. I like play, as well as other folks;
but I like to know my work's done first. Then I can play."

"Well, there the servants do the work."

"And you like that? That ain