candle, put the room door and the house door open,
and turned the little low chair and its occupant toward the outer air.
It was a sultry night, and this was a fine weather arrangement when the
day's work was done. To complete it, she seated herself by the side of
the little chair, and protectingly drew under her arm the spare hand
that crept up to her.

"This is what your loving Jenny Wren calls the best time of the day and
night," said the person of the house; adding, "I have been thinking
to-day what a thing it would be, if I should be able to have your
company till I am married, or at least courted. Because when I'm
courted, I shall make _him_ do some of the things that you do for me. He
couldn't brush my hair like you do, or help me up and downstairs like
you do, and he couldn't do anything like you do; but he could take my
work home, and he could call for orders in his clumsy way. And he shall
too. _I'll_ trot him about, I can tell him!"

Jenny Wren had her personal vanities--happily for her--and no intentions
were stronger in her breast than the various trials and torments that
were, in the fulness of time, to be inflicted upon "him."

"Wherever he may happen to be just at present, or whoever he may happen
to be," said Miss Wren, "_I_ know his tricks and his manners, and I give
him warning to look out."

"Don't you think you're rather hard upon him?" asked her friend smiling,
and smoothing her hair.

"Not a bit," replied the sage Miss Wren, with an air of vast experience.
"My dear, they don't care for you, those fellows, if you're not hard
upon 'em?"

In such light and playful conversation, which was the dear delight of
Jenny Wren, they continued until interrupted by Mr. Wrayburn, a friend
of Lizzie's, who fell to talking playfully with Jenny Wren.

"I think of setting up a doll, Miss Jenny," he said.

"You had better not," replied the dressmaker.

"Why not?"

"You are sure to break it. All you children do."

"But that makes good for trade, you know, Miss Wren," he returned.

"I don't know about that," Miss Wren retorted; "but you'd better by half
set up a pen-wiper, and turn industrious, and use it."

"Why, if we were all as industrious as you, little Busy Body, we should
begin to work as soon as we could crawl, and there would be a
bad thing!"

"Do you mean," returned the little creature with a flush suffusing her
face, "bad for your backs and your legs?"

"No, no," said the visitor, shocked