ng a new pincushion, and a very pretty one it
promised to be, for she had much taste, and spent half her time
embroidering chair-covers, crocheting tidies, and all sorts of dainty
trifles. Her room was full of them; and she often declared that she did
wish some one would invent a new sort of fancy-work, since she had tried
all the old kinds till she was tired of them. Painting china, carving
wood, button-holing butterflies and daisies onto Turkish towelling, and
making peacock-feather trimming, amused her for a time; but as she was
not very successful she soon gave up trying these branches, and wondered
if she would not take a little plain sewing for a change.

The old cushion stood on her table beside the new one; which was ready
for its trimming of lace and ribbon. A row of delicate new pins also lay
waiting to adorn the red satin mound, and in the old blue one still
remained several pins that had evidently seen hard service.

Miss Ellen was putting a dozen needles into her book, having just picked
them out of the old cushion, and, as she quilted them through the
flannel leaves, she said half aloud,--

"It is very evident where the needles go, but I really do wish I knew
what becomes of the pins."

"I can tell you," answered a small, sharp voice, as a long brass pin
tried to straighten itself up in the middle of a faded blue cornflower,
evidently prepared to address the meeting.

Miss Ellen stared much surprised, for she had used this big pin a good
deal lately, but never heard it speak before. As she looked at it she
saw for the first time that its head had a tiny face, with silvery hair,
two merry eyes, and a wee mouth out of which came the metallic little
voice that pierced her ear, small as it was.

"Dear me!" she said; then added politely, "if you can tell I should be
very happy to hear, for it has long been a great mystery, and no one
could explain it."

The old pin tried to sit erect, and the merry eye twinkled as it went on
like a garrulous creature, glad to talk after long silence:--

"Men make many wonderful discoveries, my dear, but they have never found
that out, and never will, because we belong to women, and only a
feminine ear can hear us, a feminine mind understand our mission, or
sympathize with our trials, experiences, and triumphs. For we have all
these as well as human beings, and there really is not much difference
between us when we come to look into the matter."

This was such a curiou