erine?" who said, "No indeed;" and
went out to the kitchen, and dropped into a chair. "Oh, what am I
going to do?" said she; for she never had felt so helpless and
hopeless in her life.

The old clock gave its quick little cluck, by way of reminder that in
five minutes it would be five o'clock. She had promised to have tea
early; so she opened a drawer to take out a big calico apron, and went
to work. Her eyes were full of tears. Poor woman! she felt as if she
had come face to face with a great wall, but she bravely went to work
to make the cream-tartar biscuit. Somehow she couldn't remember how
much to take of any thing. She was quite confused when she tried to
remember the familiar rule. It was silly!--she had made them hundreds
of times, and was celebrated for her skill. Cream-tartar biscuit, and
some cold bread, and some preserved plums; or was it citron-melon she
meant to have?--and some of that cold meat she had for dinner, for a
relish, with a bit of cheese.

She would have felt much more miserable if she had not had to hurry;
and after a few minutes, when the first shock of her bad news had been
dulled a little, she was herself again; and tea was nearly ready, the
biscuits baking in the oven, and some molasses gingerbread beside,
when she happened to remember that there was not a drop of cream in
the cream-pitcher, she had given it all to poor little Katy. Joseph
was very particular about having cream in his tea; so she called her
niece Martha to the kitchen, and asked her to watch the oven while she
went down the road to a neighbor's. She did not stop even to take her
sun-bonnet: it was not a great way, and shady under the elms; so away
she went with the pitcher. Mrs. Hilton, the neighbor, was a generous
soul, and when she heard of the unexpected company, with ready
sympathy and interest she said; "Now, what did you bring such a mite
of a pitcher for? Do take this one of mine. I'd just as soon you'd
have the cream as not. I don't calculate to make any butter this week,
and it'll be well to have it to eat with your preserves. It's nice and
sweet as ever you saw."

"I'm sure you are kind," said Miss Spring; and with a word or two more
she went hurrying home. As I have said, it was not far; but the
railroad came between, and our friend had to cross the track. It
seemed very provoking that a long train should be standing across the
road. It seemed to be waiting for something; an accident might have
happened, fo