door when I opened it."

"I'll warrant you were haranguing around with another new piece. Why
don't you pay attention to what you are doing until it is finished, and
then do your reciting?"

"I just hate to wash dishes and dust and sweep, Aunt Maria, but I forget
all about it when I am speaking and get through with them lots quicker."

"Yes, but see how many dishes you break, and the things you spill
because you will flap your arms about like a Dutch windmill instead of
keeping them in the dishpan where they belong. I do wish you would learn
to do one thing at a time."

"It is of no use, Aunt Maria. My thoughts won't stay on dishes, try as
hard as I will to keep them there. There isn't anything splendid or
inspiring in a pile of dirty dishes or those dusty chairs, is there? But
those poems are simply grand! I am the best speaker at school, but I
have to practice all I can to keep ahead. Just listen to this:

Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck,
And through the darkness peered that night.
Ah, darkest night! and then a speck--
A light! a light! a light! a light!
It grew--a star-lit flag unfurled!
It grew to be Time's burst of dawn;
He gained a world! he gave that world
It's watch-word: 'On! and on!'

Isn't that perfectly grand?" The black eyes glowed, the face lighted
with enthusiasm and her whole form swayed with the stirring inspiration
of the lines.

Aunt Maria was visibly impressed. "Yes, it is fine and you certainly do
put life into anything you say; but that's just it, you put too much
life in it and smash up everything you touch. Hurry now and get that
pattern, for I want it as soon as possible."

"All right, I will be back in a jiffy." Tabitha snatched up her
sunbonnet and disappeared up the path toward town, still reciting,

"Sail on! sail on! and on!"

And silence descended upon the cottage that bright Saturday morning, for
Aunt Maria was too much absorbed in some very important sewing to pay
any attention to the housework and cooking still waiting to be done. In
the midst of her thoughts as she sat puzzling over a fashion book, came
the sound of an incessant buzzing or hissing, so unlike any noise she
had ever heard that she paused in surprise to listen.

"Now, what in creation has that child done this time?" she exclaimed
after a moment. "It doesn't sound like the teakettle or as if she had
left the water running. What can it be? I have to follow he