ad. But perhaps the best of all was her
consideration for others, the certainty that it was quite as well to
begin some of the virtues of the heavenly world here on earth that they
might not seem strange to one.

Mrs. Manning sent in for Elizabeth.

"Well--you do seem like a different girl," her father declared, looking
her over from head to foot. "You've had a good rest now, and you'll have
to turn in strong and hearty, for Sarah's gone, and Ruth isn't big
enough to take hold of everything. So hunt up your things while I'm
doing some trading."

Elizabeth only had time for the very briefest farewells. Mrs. King sent
a little note containing the doctor's verdict, but Mrs. Manning was
indignant rather than alarmed.

It was lonesome when they were all gone. Eudora Chapman went to a
"finishing school" this autumn, and Doris accompanied her--poor Doris,
who had not mastered fractions, and whose written arithmetic could not
compare with Betty's. She had achieved a pair of stockings after
infinite labor and trouble. They _did_ look rowy, being knit tighter and
looser. But Aunt Priscilla gave her a pair of fine merino that she had
kept from the ravages of the moths. Miss Recompense declared that she
had no one else to knit for.

There were expert knitters who made beautiful silk stockings, and Uncle
Winthrop said buying helped along trade, so why should Doris worry when
there were so many more important matters?

The little girl and her uncle kept track of what was going on in the
great world. Napoleon the invincible had been driven back from Russia by
cold and famine, forced to yield by the great coalition and losing step
by step until he was compelled to accept banishment. Then England
redoubled her efforts, prepared to carry on the war with us vigorously.
Towns on the Chesapeake were plundered and burned, and General Ross
entered Washington, from which Congress and the President's family had
fled for their lives. America was again horror stricken, but gathering
all her energies she made such a vigorous defense as to convince her
antagonist that though cast down she could never be wholly defeated.

But this attack gave us the inspiration of one of our finest deathless
songs. A Mr. Francis S. Key, a resident of Georgetown, had gone down
from Baltimore with a flag of truce to procure the release of a friend
held as prisoner of war, when the bombardment of Fort McHenry began. All
day long he watched the flag as it floate