the edges, nor the legs?" inquired the pupil.

"Neither edges nor legs," said the instructor.

"Sure it could do no harm."

"Matty," said Mrs Rose solemnly, "the great thing that your
countrywomen have to learn is _obedience_."

"Thank 'ee, 'm," said Matty, who, being overawed by the housekeeper's
solemnity, felt confused, and was uncertain whether the reference to her
countrywomen was complimentary or the reverse.

"Now," continued Mrs Rose, "the matches."

Matty placed the box of matches on the chimney-piece.

"Very well; now you've got to look round to see that all's right."

Matty looked round on the dark portraits that covered the walls
(supposed to be ancestors), on the shelves of books, great and small,
new and old (supposed to be read); on the vases, statuettes, chairs,
tables, desks, curtains, papers, etcetera, etcetera, and, being utterly
ignorant of what constituted right and what wrong in reference to such
things, finally turned her eyes on Mrs Rose with an innocent smile.

"Don't you see that the shutters are neither shut nor barred, Matty?"

She had _not_ seen this, but she at once went and closed and barred
them, in which operation she learned, first, that the bars refused to
receive their respective "catches," with unyielding obstinacy for some
time; and, second, that they suddenly gave in without rhyme or reason
and pinched her fingers severely.

"Now then, what next?" inquired Mrs Rose.

"Put out the gas," suggested Matty.

"And leave yourself in the dark," said the housekeeper, in a tone of
playful irony.

"Ah! sure, didn't I forgit the candle!"

In order to rectify this oversight, Matty laid the unlighted candle
which she had brought with her to the room on the writing-table, and
going to the chimney-piece, returned with the match-box.

"Be careful now, Matty," said Mrs Rose earnestly. "There's nothink
I've such a fear of as fire. You can't be too careful."

This remark made Matty, who was of an anxious temperament, extremely
nervous. She struck the match hesitatingly, and lighted the candle
shakily. Of course it would not light (candles never do on such
occasions), and a long red-hot end of burnt wood projected from the
point of the match.

"Don't let the burnt end drop into the wastepaper basket!" exclaimed
Mrs Rose, in an unfortunate moment.

"Where?" exclaimed Matty with a start that sent the red-hot end into the
centre of a mass of papers.

"There, just at your feet