eed totally unheard-of, luxury--a
rest of ten minutes with idle hands!

If Nimpo had chanced to come in, she would have been alarmed at such an
extraordinary state of things; but she was at that moment in her seat in
the long school-house, with wrinkled brow, wrestling with sundry
conundrums in her "Watts on the Mind," little suspecting how her fate
was hanging in the balance in Mrs. Primkins' kitchen at this moment. At
last, Mrs. Primkins' thin lips opened. She was alone in the house, and
she began to talk to herself:

"Wants her to have a birthday-party! Humph! I must say I can't see the
good of pampering children's folks do nowadays! When _I_ was young, now,
we had something to think of besides fine clothes, unwholesome food, and
worldly dissipation! I must say I think Mis' Rievor has some very
uncommon notions! Hows'ever," she went on, contemplating fondly the bill
she still held in her hand, "I do' know's I have any call to fret my
gizzard if she chooses to potter away her money! I don't see my way
clear to refuse altogether to do what she asks, 's long 's the child's
on my hands. Ten dollars! Humph! She 'hopes it'll be enough to provide a
little supper for them!' It's my private opinion that it will, and a
mite over for--for--other things," she added, resolutely closing her
lips with a snap. "I aint such a shif'less manager's all that comes to,
I _do_ hope! 'T wont take no ten dollars to give a birthday-party in
_my_ house, I bet a cookey!"

That night, when supper was over, Nimpo sat down with the family by the
table, which held one candle that dimly lighted the room, to finish a
book she was reading. Not that the kitchen was the only room in the
house. Mrs. Primkins had plenty of rooms, but they were too choice for
every-day use. They were always tightly closed, with green paper shades
down, lest the blessed sunshine should get a peep at her gaudy red and
green carpets, and put the least mellowing touch an their crude and
rasping colors. Nimpo thought of the best parlor with a sort of awe
which she never felt toward any room in her mother's house.

"Nimpo," said Mrs. Primkins at last, when she had held back the news
till Nimpo had finished her book, and was about to go upstairs, "wait a
bit. I got a letter from your Ma to-day."

"Did you?" exclaimed Nimpo, alarmed. "Oh! what is the matter?"

"Don't fly into tificks! Nothing is the matter," said Mrs. Primkins.

"Is she coming home?" was the next eager ques