lia having
been forgotten, and the other half put on awry. Nan laughed till the
tears ran over her cheeks, and John was gratified at the efficacy of
his treatment; for her face had brought a whole harvest of sunshine
from the garden, and all her cares seemed to have been lost in the
windings of the lane.

"Nan, are you in hysterics?" cried Di, appearing, book in hand. "John,
you absurd man, what are you doing?"

"I'm helpin' the maid of all work, please marm." And John dropped a
curtsy with his limited apron.

Di looked ruffled, for the merry words were a covert reproach; and with
her usual energy of manner and freedom of speech she tossed "Wilhelm"
out of the window, exclaiming, irefully.--

"That's always the way; I'm never where I ought to be, and never think
of anything till it's too late; but it's all Goethe's fault. What does
he write books full of smart 'Phillinas' and interesting 'Meisters'
for? How can I be expected to remember that Sally's away, and people
must eat, when I'm hearing the 'Harper' and little 'Mignon?' John, how
dare you come here and do my work, instead of shaking me and telling me
to do it myself? Take that toasted child away, and fan her like a
Chinese mandarin, while I dish up this dreadful dinner."

John and Nan fled like chaff before the wind, while Di, full of
remorseful zeal, charged at the kettles, and wrenched off the potatoes'
jackets, as if she were revengefully pulling her own hair. Laura had a
vague intention of going to assist; but, getting lost among the lights
and shadows of Minerva's helmet, forgot to appear till dinner had been
evoked from chaos and peace was restored.

At three o'clock, Di performed the coronation ceremony with her
father's best hat; Laura retied his old-fashioned neckcloth, and
arranged his white locks with an eye to saintly effect; Nan appeared
with a beautifully written sermon, and suspicious ink-stains on the
fingers that slipped it into his pocket; John attached himself to the
bag; and the patriarch was escorted to the door of his tent with the
triumphal procession which usually attended his out-goings and
in-comings. Having kissed the female portion of his tribe, he ascended
the venerable chariot, which received him with audible lamentation, as
its rheumatic joints swayed to and fro.

"Good-bye, my dears! I shall be back early on Monday morning; so take
care of yourselves, and be sure you all go and hear Mr. Emerboy preach
to-morrow. My re