laining. But I do hope she is not
going to be ill, as she was before. It would be terrible for us all."

"I hope not, indeed," said Christie; and in a moment she added, "You
would need to bide at home then, Effie."

Effie shook her head.

"No; I should need all the more to be away if that were to happen. What
should we all do for shoes, if it werena for my school-money?"

Christie's countenance fell; but in a little time she said--

"But the harvest is a great deal better this year, Effie."

"Yes; but there winna be much to sell. If we don't have to buy, it will
be a great thing for us. And the shoes we must have, and new harness,
and other things. I mustna think of staying this winter, I'm sure,
Christie."

Christie gave a long sigh, as she rose with her full pail.

"I wish I was old enough and able to keep a school, or do something!"

"Do something!" echoed Effie. "I'm sure you do a great deal. Think of
the butter! And you've made bread all the summer, and swept, and
ironed, and washed the dishes."

"But all that comes to very little," said Christie, disconsolately.

"Indeed it does--to more than my school-keeping, I dare say. And I'm
sure it's far pleasanter work."

"Pleasanter!" repeated Christie; and there was such a protesting echo in
her voice that Effie could not help laughing; but she said, again--

"Yes, pleasanter. Don't you think it must be far nicer to be at home
with all the rest, than to stay among folk that don't care about you,
and have to bear your trouble alone?"

Christie opened her eyes wide.

"But, Effie, folk do care about you. And what troubles can you have to
bear?"

Effie laughed softly; but she looked grave immediately.

"Well, I havena so many as I might have, I suppose."

"I'm sure if I were you I should be perfectly happy," said Christie.

"That's only one of the mistakes you have fallen into," said Effie,
gravely. "Do you remember the story of the burdens, and how every one
was willing to take up his own at last?"

Nothing in the world would have convinced Christie that her sister's lot
was not much pleasanter than her own; and she said to herself, how
gladly she would change burdens with her! but aloud she only asked--

"Has anything new happened? What's troubling you, Effie?"

"Oh, nothing has happened," said Effie, cheerfully. "I'm getting on
well. The worst of my troubles are those I find at home--Aunt Elsie's
rheumatism, and your pale, tired f