let a pan of milk fall on the old cat, and fed the hens
with beans, and old Jowler with meal and water; then, this morning I
beat the eggs and put them into the bread, and the yeast into the
pumpkin-pies. Too bad! too bad! Why at this rate, Hetty, I shall cost
your good old parents a fortune!"

"Never mind, Miss Ursula, for mother says, and so does father, that
you are the dearest, prettiest, and best girl they ever knew; and they
already love you almost as well as they do me--only they feel sorry
for you; and mother says if you could not make caps, she don't know
what _would_ become of you, you are so dreadful shiftless."

Ursula clapped her hands and fairly danced with mirth.

"After all, Hetty, your good mother is right. Let my fortune take
wings, and with all my accomplishments to aid me, I feel I should be
illy prepared for the reverse. Now if your mother would only have
patience to instruct me a little--suffer me to spoil several batches
of bread--(the pigs would like it, you know,)--burn up a few pounds of
cake, and waste a quart or two of her rich cream, I declare, I think I
should learn to be a nice little farmer's maid. What pleases you,
Hetty--what are you smiling at?"

"Nothing, only farmer Smith's oldest son is coming to see you--_a
courting_, Miss Ursula; and Esquire Tompkins told father he hoped to
see you before long the mistress of his beautiful new house; for he
did not think he should disgrace himself by marrying such a girl as
you, even if you was only a milliner."

"Why the dear old soul! Come, my false impressions begin to wear away.
I find I can be loved without the glitter of gold about me. Now let us
go back to the house, for I have that cap to finish for Mrs. Jones;
and mind, Hetty, you don't call me _Miss_ Ursula again, in the
presence of your mother; and don't look so distressed when she chides
me--it is all for my good, you know."

Now, there they go into the old farm-house, and at the window you may
see the demure face of Ursula, listening to the good dame, who, with
snowy cap, and spectacles, seems to be giving her a lecture, while the
hands of the little milliner are busily trimming a cap placed on the
block before her.

Over the brow of the hill, and down into the gentle sloping meadow, a
youth comes walking leisurely. He has a portfolio under his arm, and a
slight walking-stick in his hand, while the cool linen blouse and
large straw hat shading him from the sun, bespeak an air