bout it
right away!" and Sylvie sprang up, as if she would start at once.

They all laughed.

"There must be a little planning first. Mrs. Connelly is a bright,
good-hearted creature, and can make good coffee; and Rose and Kathleen
would make nice little maids. She stopped me to-night to inquire if
there was any chance of their being taken in the mill. There must be
some diversity of employment, or presently we shall all be doing the one
thing again,"--and Jack smiled humorously. "Dennis gets low wages,
Bernard is in the mill, and there are two younger boys. She takes in
gentlemen's laundering, as you know. She was wishing she could rent out
the store, but no one wants it. Now, if it could be altered into an
attractive coffee-room, kept neat and bright, and--you will laugh at me,
no doubt--but given a kind of style,--the cups clean and shining, the
spoons decent, and some nice bread and butter for noon lunches. All this
at a moderate price. The men pay five cents for their pint of ale, and
it is often shared by two: they must not give more than three cents for
their cup of coffee."

"I suppose you mean that we are to plan it all out for her," said
Sylvie, and she looked across at Miss Morgan.

"It will not do to buy a pound of sugar and a pound of coffee at a
time," said Jane concisely.

"Then I will be the capitalist," promised Sylvie.

"Exactly. Kit had better do this on some money that she must give an
account of, and it will make her more careful. She owns a cow, so there
is the milk. I should like this started quietly, not with a great blare
of opposition to the dram-shops."

"Well, what must we do first?" asked Sylvie.

"I wish you and Jane would go down and call on her, and suggest the
business. See how she takes it, and look around at the capabilities of
the place. I will see to the fitting-up."

They went, as desired. Mrs. Connelly--a round, rosy, buxom Irishwoman,
with a mellow voice, laughing eye, and artist-red hair--was very much
taken with their plan. "To turn an honest penny in these hard times, and
not be wronging any one, would just suit the likes of her. And there was
the store standing empty,--but it might stand till the crack o' doom
afore she'd have a drop of rum sold in it. There never was a better man
than Den when he was sober, and sure she'd had sorrow enough along wid
drinking. And there was Barney growin' up, and the two smaller ones, and
she'd never, never put a bit of temptation i