id, "I am sure you can do this well enough. It is not
such a very particular job; just make something in which to keep the
child warm nights, you know. That is all I care for," kindly added she,
as she closed the door behind her and went back to the kitchen.

Finally I appealed to Alma. She was busy. She had never cut out anything
of the sort, neither had Ricka nor Miss L., but I being a married woman
was supposed to have a superior knowledge of all such things. I admitted
that I might have a theory on the subject, but a "working hypothesis,"
alas, I had none.

Still I hung around Alma, who was an expert dressmaker of years'
standing in San Francisco.

"No, I can't cut them out, really; but why don't you make a pattern from
some garment on hand?"

Here was an idea. Something to build upon.

"But there are the feet, and the waist?" I said still anxiously.

"O, build them on to your pattern," she said carelessly; as if anyone
with half an eye and one hand could do that sort of building, and she
left the room for more important matters.

There was nothing else for me to do. I secured a suit of the baby's
clothing throughout, and, taking the cloth, the shears, and an old
newspaper, I went upstairs to Miss J.'s room and closed the door. I
wanted to be alone. I longed to have my dear old mother there for just
one short hour, for in that time I felt certain she would have cut out
these as well as other garments, enough to keep us for weeks sewing, as
her own babies had kept her at one time.

However, there was no help for me, and I went to work. For an hour I cut
and whittled on that old newspaper, along with a number of others,
before I got a pattern that I fancied might do. Then I submitted it to
Miss J. herself, who told me to go ahead and cut it out. It appeared all
right, so far as she could see. Then I cut, and basted, and tried the
garment on Bessie. It was too wide across the chest, too short in the
legs, and the feet were monstrosities. What was to be done, I asked of
the others?

"Make new feet, and sew them on around the ankle," said Miss J.,
thoughtfully, surveying her little charge from all sides, as the child
stood first on one foot, then on the other, "then you can lengthen the
legs a little if you want to," careful not to offend by criticising
abruptly, but still feeling that the height of the gearing should be
increased.

"Dear me, that's easy enough," suggested Alma, "just put a wide box
plait do