melia's mamma could at last lean back in her chair and
have a quiet chat with her husband, which was not broken in upon every
two minutes, and Amelia herself was asleep; but Nurse must sit up for
hours wearing out her eyes by the light of a tallow candle, in
fine-darning great, jagged, and most unnecessary holes in Amelia's
muslin dresses. Or perhaps she had to wash and iron clothes for
Amelia's wear next day. For sometimes she was so very destructive, that
towards the end of the week she had used up all her clothes and had no
clean ones to fall back upon.

Amelia's meals were another source of trouble. She would not wear a
pinafore; if it had been put on, she would burst the strings, and
perhaps in throwing it away knock her plate of mutton broth over the
tablecloth and her own dress. Then she fancied first one thing and then
another; she did not like this or that; she wanted a bit cut here or
there. Her mamma used to begin by saying, "My dear-r-Ramelia, you must
not be so wasteful," and she used to end by saying, "The dear child has
positively no appetite;" which seemed to be a good reason for not
wasting any more food upon her; but with Amelia's mamma it only meant
that she might try a little cutlet and tomato sauce when she had half
finished her roast beef, and that most of the cutlet and all the mashed
potato might be exchanged for plum tart and custard; and that when she
had spooned up the custard and played with the paste, and put the plum
stones on the tablecloth, she might be tempted with a little Stilton
cheese and celery, and exchange that for anything that caught her fancy
in the dessert dishes.

The Nurse used to say, "Many a poor child would thank GOD for what you
waste every meal-time, Miss Amelia," and to quote a certain good old
saying, "Waste not, want not." But Amelia's mamma allowed her to send
away on her plates what would have fed another child, day after day.

UNDER THE HAYCOCKS.

It was summer, and haytime. Amelia had been constantly in the hayfield,
and the haymakers had constantly wished that she had been anywhere
else. She mislaid the rakes, nearly killed herself and several other
persons with a fork, and overturned one haycock after another as fast
as they were made. At tea-time it was hoped that she would depart, but
she teased her mamma to have the tea brought into the field, and her
mamma said, "The poor child must have a treat sometimes," and so it was
brought out.

After this she