arters had
been poor enough; he had not been so successful as his brothers, and
had been unable to live as well. It had been a great cross to his
wife, Dorcas, who was very high-spirited. She had compared, bitterly,
the poverty of her household arrangements, with the abundant comfort
of her sisters-in-law.

Now, she seized eagerly at the opportunity of improving her style of
living. The old Wales house was quite a pretentious edifice for those
times. All the drawback to her delight was, that Grandma should
have the southwest fire-room. She wanted to set up her high-posted
bedstead, with its enormous feather-bed in that, and have it for her
fore-room. Properly, it was the fore-room, being right across the
entry from the family sitting-room. There was a tall chest of drawers
that would fit in so nicely between the windows, too. Take it
altogether, she was chagrined at having to give up the southwest room;
but there was no help for it--there it was in Deacon Wales's will.

Mrs. Dorcas was the youngest of all the sons' wives, as her husband
was the latest born. She was quite a girl to some of them. Grandma
had never more than half approved of her. Dorcas was high-strung and
flighty, she said. She had her doubts about living happily with her.
But Atherton was anxious for this division of the property, and he was
her youngest darling, so she gave in. She felt lonely, and out of
her element, when everything was arranged, she established in the
southwest fire-room, and Atherton's family keeping house in the
others, though things started pleasantly and peaceably enough.

It occurred to her that her son Samuel might have her own "help," a
stout woman, who had worked in her kitchen for many years, and she
take in exchange his little bound girl, Ann Ginnins. She had always
taken a great fancy to the child. There was a large closet out of the
southwest room, where she could sleep, and she could be made very
useful, taking steps, and running "arrants" for her.

Mr. Samuel and his wife hesitated a little when this plan was
proposed. In spite of the trouble she gave them, they were attached
to Ann, and did not like to part with her, and Mrs. Polly was just
getting her "larnt" her own ways, as she put it. Privately, she feared
Grandma would undo all the good she had done, in teaching Ann to be
smart and capable. Finally they gave in, with the understanding that
it was not to be considered necessarily a permanent arrangement, and
An