ty things to show. She
took up the white paper, and discovered three pin-cushions, very nicely
made: they were so contrived that there was a gold and purple flower in
the centre of each pin-cushion on both sides: the cushions were square,
well stuffed, and pinched in the middle of each side; they had a tassel
at every corner, made of the odd bits of silk roved, and to each of
them was a long bit of ribbon. Emily's face flushed like a rosebud when
she laid them on the table. "Very, very good," said Mrs. Goodriche;
"and you did them all yourself?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Emily. "I made the insides first, and stuffed them
with bran, before I put the silk on."

"Now for Lucy," said Mrs. Goodriche; and Lucy, opening her parcel,
showed an old-fashioned housewife with many pockets: she had managed
her silk so, that the clouds upon it formed borders for the outside
and each pocket; she had overcast a piece of flannel for the needles,
and put a card under that part of the housewife; she had lined it to
make it strong, and had put some ribbon to tie it with, and had made a
case for it of printed calico, and a button and a button-hole.

"Very, very good, too," said Mrs. Goodriche; "let it be placed by the
pin-cushions; and now for Bessy."

Bessy began to giggle and to move herself about in a very uneasy way.

"If you have nothing to show, Bessy," said her aunt; "or if you are not
ready, we will excuse you."

"It does not signify," answered Bessy, "I am as ready now as I ever
shall be. I can make nothing of the silk."

"Have you lost it?" asked her aunt.

"No," she answered; "I have it--you may as well see it at once;" and
diving again into her pocket, she brought out what looked very like a
piece of blotting-paper which had been well used, and laid it on the
table. "I could not help it," she said; "but I had it on the table one
morning, when I was in this room alone, and I tumbled over the inkstand
right upon it; and I thought it was lucky that almost all the ink had
fallen on the silk, and not on the cloth; so, as it was spoiled
already, I used it to wipe up the rest of the ink, and that is the
whole truth."

Mrs. Goodriche, though vexed, could not keep herself from smiling,
which Bessy seeing, tried to turn the whole affair into a laugh; but it
was not a merry laugh.

"Well, take it away, my dear," said Mrs. Goodriche; "put it by to wipe
your pens with;" and away ran Bessy out of the room, not to laugh when
by herself,