what
my partners are like, and about the suppers, and take them my German
favors, and they simply _love_ it! Mr. Monk thinks it's terrible that I
don't read them tracts; my dear, they abominate tracts, and so do I; we
found that out at once. So I read them the gayest, frilliest little
stories I can find, that are really _nice_, and they _adore_ it. One
day--my _dears_! will you promise never to breathe it if I tell you
something? never even to _sneeze_ it?"

"We promise! We promise!" cried all the girls.

"Well--hush! It was simply fierce; and _the_ greatest sport I ever had
in my life. There is one old lady in the Home who is too perfectly sweet
for anything. Miss Bathsheba Barry; did you ever hear such a delicious
name? She is just my height, and as pretty as a picture in her cap and
kerchief. They all wear caps and kerchiefs, and little gray gowns, the
most becoming costume you ever saw; I am going into the Home the very
minute my looks begin to go, because I _do_ look quite--but wait! Hush!
not a word! Well! I had been teasing Miss Barry for ever and ever so
long to let me dress up in her things, because I knew they would suit
me, and at last, one day, the dear old thing consented. It was the time
for the matron's afternoon visit, and she is very jolly, and I wanted to
surprise her. So I put on the little gray gown, and the delicious cap,
just like Rembrandt's mother, and the white net kerchief--don't you
adore white net, Snowy? it softens the face so!--and the apron; and then
I went and sat down in Miss Barry's chair by the window, with her
knitting, and put on her spectacles--oh! how she did laugh. Then we
heard steps, and Miss Barry went into the closet and shut the door all
but a crack to peep through, and I turned my head away from the door,
and knitted away for dear life. Oh, girls! The door opened, and I heard
Mrs. Poddle say, 'This way, gentlemen! This is Miss Barry's room.'
_Gentlemen!_ My dears, I thought I should pass away! Then there came
great, loud men's steps, and I heard Mr. Monk's voice--'This is one of
our most interesting inmates, Bishop! Eighty-seven years old, and as
sprightly as a girl. A most pious and exemplary person. Good morning,
Miss Barry! How is your rheumatism to-day?'

[Illustration: "'SIMPLY FIERCE, YOUR REVERENCE!' SAID I."]

"'Simply fierce, your reverence!' said I, in a little squeaky voice, as
like Miss Barry's as I could make it. I kept my face turned away, and
pretended to