efinement. They come from magnificent stock and work a farm of
medium size in the Northwest. She said:

"I get up at about half-past six in the morning, and have breakfast at
seven. Then I help Mother what I can before I start for school. Mamma
puts up my luncheon while I get ready. About a quarter past eight I
start on my two mile walk to school. For about three quarters of a mile
I follow the road, then I turn off into woods. By following a
half-beaten trail for a ways, I come to a bridge made of wire. The
sides and bottom are of wire; on the bottom are laid rows of planks with
cross pieces to keep them where they belong. The bridge sways when you
walk on it and sometimes it sags quite a little. Across the river I go
through more woods. The schoolhouse is set on the top of a little hill.
There are about twenty pupils in the school. At recess and noon we often
play baseball. We have a fine teeter and swing. At noons all of the
girls and sometimes the boys take their dinners and go out and find some
pretty spot in the woods to eat. In the spring-time we often go flower
hunting. I never get home in the afternoon until about half past four.
After school I play, sew, or help in the garden till supper time. After
supper I do the supper dishes, then we all have a nice time sewing,
reading, or playing games around the fireplace."

A rest-breathing idyl like this shows that it is possible for bits of
heaven to appear here upon earth now and then! The picture is made still
more vivid by this little note:

"Several times we took lunch to an unworked mine near by and enjoyed the
beautiful view and amused ourselves by picking gold out of the crevices
in the rocks." The final touch of romantic beauty!

A roseate story like this should be followed, for contrast's sake, by
one picturing the harder side. The following, written by a girl of
sixteen, a description of a day in haying time, shows how a blithesome
spirit can make work light and joyous:

"Haying time is a very busy season for all on the farm. At 5.30 o'clock
Mother comes to our room, saying, 'It is going to be a good hay day,
girlies. You must get up now; the men are nearly through milking.' She
is forced to call several times, but finally we are up and dressed; we
help finish getting breakfast, feed the chickens, and drive the cows to
pasture. After breakfast my sister and I take the milk to the milkman
who carries it to the milk station. Father hitches our horse and l