er plan certainly made our book
attractive. But it did not work very well in practice. We have a friend
who undertook to furnish her house by our book, and she never could get
the things as cheaply as we had them quoted.

"But you see," said Euphemia, to her, "we had to put them down at very
low prices, because the model house we speak of in the book is to be
entirely furnished for just so much."

But, in spite of this explanation, the lady was not satisfied.

We found ourselves obliged to give up the idea of a furnished house. We
would have taken an unfurnished one and furnished it ourselves, but we
had not money enough. We were dreadfully afraid that we should have to
continue to board.

It was now getting on toward summer, at least there was only a part of
a month of spring left, and whenever I could get off from my business
Euphemia and I made little excursions into the country round about the
city. One afternoon we went up the river, and there we saw a sight that
transfixed us, as it were. On the bank, a mile or so above the city,
stood a canal-boat. I say stood, because it was so firmly imbedded
in the ground by the river-side, that it would have been almost as
impossible to move it as to have turned the Sphinx around. This boat we
soon found was inhabited by an oyster-man and his family. They had lived
there for many years and were really doing quite well. The boat was
divided, inside, into rooms, and these were papered and painted and
nicely furnished. There was a kitchen, a living-room, a parlor and
bedrooms. There were all sorts of conveniences--carpets on the floors,
pictures, and everything, at least so it seemed to us, to make a home
comfortable. This was not all done at once, the oyster-man told me. They
had lived there for years and had gradually added this and that until
the place was as we saw it. He had an oyster-bed out in the river and
he made cider in the winter, but where he got the apples I don't know.
There was really no reason why he should not get rich in time.

Well, we went all over that house and we praised everything so much that
the oyster-man's wife was delighted, and when we had some stewed oysters
afterward,--eating them at a little table under a tree near by,--I
believe that she picked out the very largest oysters she had, to stew
for us. When we had finished our supper and had paid for it, and were
going down to take our little boat again,--for we had rowed up the
river,--Euphemi