ixty yards for both rooms," said Jenny, always primed with
statistics.

"That will be a hundred and twenty dollars," I said.

"Yes," said Jenny; "and we went over the figures together, and thought
we could make it out by economizing in other things. Aunt Easygo said
that the carpet was half the battle,--that it gave the air to
everything else."

"Well, Marianne, if you want a man's advice in the case, mine is at
your service."

"That is just what I want, papa."

"Well, then, my dear, choose your wall-papers and borderings, and,
when they are up, choose an ingrain carpet to harmonize with them, and
adapt your furniture to the same idea. The sixty dollars that you save
on your carpet spend on engravings, chromo lithographs, or photographs
of some good works of art, to adorn your walls."

"Papa, I'll do it," said Marianne.

"My little dear," said I, "your papa may seem to be a sleepy old
book-worm, yet he has his eyes open. Do you think I don't know why my
girls have the credit of being the best-dressed girls on the street?"

"Oh papa!" cried out both girls in a breath.

"Fact, that!" said Bob, with energy, pulling at his mustache.
"Everybody talks about your dress, and wonders how you make it out."

"Well," said I, "I presume you do not go into a shop and buy a yard of
ribbon because it is selling at half price, and put it on without
considering complexion, eyes, hair, and shade of the dress, do you?"

"Of course we don't!" chimed in the duo with energy.

"Of course you don't. Haven't I seen you mincing downstairs, with all
your colors harmonized, even to your gloves and gaiters? Now, a room
must be dressed as carefully as a lady."

"Well, I'm convinced," said Jenny, "that papa knows how to make rooms
prettier than Aunt Easygo; but then she said this was cheap, because
it would outlast two common carpets."

"But, as you pay double price," said I, "I don't see that. Besides, I
would rather, in the course of twenty years, have two nice, fresh
ingrain carpets, of just the color and pattern that suited my rooms,
than labor along with one ill-chosen velvet that harmonized with
nothing."

"I give it up," said Jenny; "I give it up."

"Now, understand me," said I; "I am not traducing velvet or Brussels
or Axminster. I admit that more beautiful effects can be found in
those goods than in the humbler fabrics of the carpet rooms. Nothing
would delight me more than to put an unlimited credit to Marianne's
account