like a study.

'One peep at her sanctum since she is out,' cried the enthusiastic lady,
and swept across the hall with her flock before Teddy could warn his
mother, whose retreat had been cut off by the artist in front, the
reporter at the back of the house--for he hadn't gone and the ladies in
the hall.

'They've got her!' thought Teddy, in comical dismay. 'No use for her to
play housemaid since they've seen the portrait.'

Mrs Jo did her best, and being a good actress, would have escaped if the
fatal picture had not betrayed her. Mrs Parmalee paused at the desk, and
regardless of the meerschaum that lay there, the man's slippers close
by, and a pile of letters directed to 'Prof. F. Bhaer', she clasped her
hands, exclaiming impressively: 'Girls, this is the spot where she wrote
those sweet, those moral tales which have thrilled us to the soul! Could
I--ah, could I take one morsel of paper, an old pen, a postage stamp
even, as a memento of this gifted woman?'

'Yes'm, help yourselves,' replied the maid, moving away with a glance at
the boy, whose eyes were now full of merriment he could not suppress.

The oldest girl saw it, guessed the truth, and a quick look at the
woman in the apron confirmed her suspicion. Touching her mother, she
whispered: 'Ma, it's Mrs Bhaer herself. I know it is.'

'No? yes? it is! Well, I do declare, how nice that is!' And hastily
pursuing the unhappy woman, who was making for the door, Mrs Parmalee
cried eagerly:

'Don't mind us! I know you're busy, but just let me take your hand and
then we'll go.'

Giving herself up for lost, Mrs Jo turned and presented her hand like
a tea-tray, submitting to have it heartily shaken, as the matron said,
with somewhat alarming hospitality:

'If ever you come to Oshkosh, your feet won't be allowed to touch the
pavement; for you'll be borne in the arms of the populace, we shall be
so dreadful glad to see you.'

Mentally resolving never to visit that effusive town, Jo responded
as cordially as she could; and having written her name in the albums,
provided each visitor with a memento, and kissed them all round, they at
last departed, to call on 'Longfeller, Holmes, and the rest'--who were
all out, it is devoutly to be hoped.

'You villain, why didn't you give me a chance to whip away? Oh, my dear,
what fibs you told that man! I hope we shall be forgiven our sins in
this line, but I don't know what is to become of us if we don't dodge.
So many agains