we hadn't the sum upon which the
furnishing of a small house was therein based.

"And if we haven't the money," remarked Euphemia, "it would be of no
earthly use to look at the book. It would only make us doubt our own
calculations. You might as well try to make brick without mortar, as the
children of Israel did."

"I could do that myself, my dear," said I, "but we won't discuss that
subject now. We will buy just what we absolutely need, and then work up
from that."

Acting on this plan, we bought first a small stove, because Euphemia
said that we could sleep on the floor, if it were necessary, but we
couldn't make a fire on the floor--at least not often. Then we got
a table and two chairs. The next thing we purchased was some hanging
shelves for our books, and Euphemia suddenly remembered the kitchen
things. These, which were few, with some crockery, nearly brought us to
the end of our resources, but we had enough for a big easy-chair which
Euphemia was determined I should have, because I really needed it when
I came home at night, tired with my long day's work at the office. I had
always been used to an easy-chair, and it was one of her most delightful
dreams to see me in a real nice one, comfortably smoking my pipe in my
own house, after eating my own delicious little supper in company with
my own dear wife. We selected the chair, and then we were about to order
the things sent out to our future home, when I happened to think that we
had no bed. I called Euphemia's attention to the fact.

She was thunderstruck.

"I never thought of that," she said. "We shall have to give up the
stove."

"Not at all," said I, "we can't do that. We must give up the
easy-chair."

"Oh, that would be too bad," said she. "The house would seem like
nothing to me without the chair!"

"But we must do without it, my dear," said I, "at least for a while. I
can sit out on deck and smoke of an evening, you know."

"Yes," said Euphemia. "You can sit on the bulwarks and I can sit by you.
That will do very well. I'm sure I'm glad the boat has bulwarks."

So we resigned the easy-chair and bought a bedstead and some very plain
bedding. The bedstead was what is sometimes called a "scissors-bed."
We could shut it up when we did not want to sleep in it, and stand it
against the wall.

When we packed up our trunks and left the boarding-house Euphemia fairly
skipped with joy.

We went down to Ginx's in the first boat, having arranged that