atic emphasis.

"Ye ought to march straight out and meet it! That's what Therese has
been teaching me all these years, for, says she, `Bridgie, the dear, is
so soft-hearted that she'll never believe but that everything will come
right if ye sit still and look pleasant.' The last thing but one that
she said to me before parting was that I must look after the family and
keep them out of trouble; so I've been reading over the papers to see
how I can make some money, and it's wonderful the choice you can have!
I thought at first about taking a situation, but it's better that I
should stay at home to look after Bridgie, and teach her how to use up
the scraps as they do in France. Me dear, the most elegant soup made
out of nothing at all but the scraps ye would throw to the hens!
There's one advertisement which says a lady like meself can earn a
handsome income in her own home, without interfering with present
duties. It sounds so light and pleasant that it quite struck my fancy;
and only two shillings for samples and directions!"

"Oh, Pixie, did you really send it? I'm so sorry you did that without
telling me first. I'm afraid it's a hoax, dear! It sounds too good to
be true!"

"But it says so plainly in those very words. I'll show it to you if you
like. It's printed!" cried Pixie in a tone of shocked reproof which
silenced the protests on Sylvia's lips. If her suspicions were correct,
time would teach the lesson that even printed advertisements were not
always accurately truthful, but she had not the heart to dilate on the
perfidiousness of mankind in the presence of such innocent trustfulness.
She murmured apologetic phrases, and Pixie beamed once more and
continued her story.

"There's another gentleman wants you to go round and sell books. I've
written to him, but I'd rather do things at home. Did you ever hear of
anyone making a fortune by addressing envelopes? They want someone to
do that too, but I write so slowly meself, and it's only a shilling a
thousand. A literery lady is wanted to correct proofs. That would be
nice, because they might be stories. How do you spell `literery',
Sylvia?"

"L-i-t-e-r-a-r-y!"

"Not `e-r-y?' You are quite sure?"

"Absolutely sure!"

"I put `literery'!" said Pixie, with a sigh. Perhaps it will prejudice
him against me! Spelling was never my strong point, but that was worse
than ignorance--with the paper lying beside me for reference! The best
of all is a