le embarrassed as she told the milliner that
she supposed the hat would have to be trimmed in the way Elsie wanted
it.

"Humph! I knew the child would get what she wanted," observed the old
lady who had first spoken. "I felt all the time that the mother would
have to give in. What on earth did she let her take those big black
wings for? Two of those little yellow sugar birds would have been
better for a child's hat. The idea of letting a youngster rule you
that way! My!" and then she took another deep breath. "She needs a
trouncing, if ever a child did," and with that she and her friend
resumed their shopping.

The cloud had vanished from Elsie's face, and all was serene again.
Her mother seemed somewhat ashamed of her little girl's bad manners, as
was shown by her apologetic air when she observed to the trimmer that
Elsie was as queer a child as ever lived. When she set her mind on a
thing, it was so hard for her to give it up.

They waited for the new hat to be trimmed, and on its completion Elsie
seized it and put it on her head, much against her mother's wishes, who
preferred not to have it displayed until the next day at Sunday-school;
but the insistence of the child was so vehement that again the mother
thought it wise to yield, and Elsie tripped off in triumph to the other
end of the store with the black wings showing out stiffly on each side
of her head. The mother remarked, with forced playfulness, as she
watched her, "Elsie's a g-r-e-a-t girl, I tell you. You can't fool
her."

[Illustration: The Baltimore Oriole.]

As the trimmer returned the boxes to the shelves, I overheard her
mutter, "Oh, yes, Elsie is a g-r-e-a-t girl, a perfect little jewel, so
well-behaved. Her polite manners show her careful home training; quite
a reflection on her dear mamma." But from the peculiar laugh she gave
I didn't believe she really meant it as praise.

When the nights grew longer and the store was closed for the evening,
the milliner and her husband usually spent an hour or two in the back
room looking over the newspaper which came every day from the city.
The man always turned at once to the wheat reports, and the price of
wool, which he read aloud to his wife, though I could see she did not
care very much to hear about them; but she hunted first for the fashion
notes and the bargains in millinery before she read the other news.
One night while thus engaged she suddenly exclaimed:

"Here's something that