d, "I'm
so glad you're come; those are Mr. Tyndall's boots, and these," he
continued, holding up the boots on which he was engaged, "are the
gardener's."

"And who, pray, instructed you to clean them?"

"The gardener," replied Charlie.

"He did, did he?" said Mrs. Bird, indignantly. "Very well; now do you take
off that apron and come to me immediately; before you do, however, tell
Alfred I want him."

Charlie quickly divested himself of the tow apron, and after having
informed the gardener that Mrs. Bird desired his presence in the parlour,
he ran up there himself. Alfred came lumbering up stairs, after giving his
boots an unusual scraping and cleansing preparatory to entering upon that
part of the premises which to him was generally forbidden ground.

"By whose direction did you set the child at that dirty work?" asked Mrs.
Bird, after he had entered the room.

"I hadn't anybody's direction to set him to work, but I thought you brought
him here to do odd jobs. You know, ma'am, I asked you some time ago to get
a boy, and I thought this was the one."

"And if he had been, you would have taken a great liberty in assigning him
any duties without first consulting me. But he is not a servant here, nor
do I intend him to be such; and let me inform you, that instead of his
cleaning your boots, it will be your duty henceforth to clean his. Now,"
continued she, "you know his position here, let me see that you remember
yours. You can go." This was said in so peremptory a manner, as to leave no
room for discussion or rejoinder, and Alfred, with a chagrined look, went
muttering down stairs.

"Things have come to a pretty pass," grumbled he. "I'm to wait on niggers,
black their boots, and drive them out, too, I suppose. I'd leave at once if
it wasn't such a good situation. Drat the old picture--what has come over
her I wonder--she'll be asking old Aunt Charity, the black washerwoman to
dine with her next. She has either gone crazy or turned abolitionist, I
don't know which; something has happened to her, that's certain."

"Now, Charlie," said Mrs. Bird, as the door closed upon the crest-fallen
gardener, "go to your room and dress yourself nicely. After I've eaten my
breakfast, I am going to visit a friend, and I want you to accompany me;
don't be long."

"Can't I eat mine first, Mrs. Bird?" he asked, in reply.

"I thought you had had yours, long ago," rejoined she.

"The others hadn't finished theirs when you called me