my life!

_Hetty._ I should think she came from the back-woods.

_Fanny._ Who is she, any way?

_Lizzie._ She's the daughter of the rich Mr. Jones, a man, who, three
years ago, was the proprietor of a very small saw-mill away down east.
He managed to scrape together a little money, which he invested in
certain railroad stocks, which nobody thought would ever pay. They
did, however, and he has, no doubt to his own astonishment, made a
great deal of money.

_Hetty._ And that accounts for Miss Precise's partiality. Well, I'm
not going to associate myself with her; and I mean to write to
father this very day, and tell him to take me home. She dresses so
ridiculously!

_Lizzie._ And talks so horridly!

_Fanny._ And plays so wretchedly!

_Hetty._ O, girls, don't you think I caught her at the piano this
morning playing Yankee Doodle and whistling an accompaniment!

_Fanny._ Whistling!

_Lizzie._ Good gracious! what would Miss Precise say. If there's
anything she forbids, it's whistling.

_Hetty._ Yes, and such a reader! I heard her reciting Longfellow's
Excelsior; and such reading, and such gestures! (_Recites._)

"The shades of night were falling fast,
As through an All-pine village past--"

(_All laugh._)

_Fanny._ O, it's ridiculous!

_Lizzie._ And then her dress! O, girls, I've made a discovery!

_Fanny._ What is it? What is it?

_Hetty._ O, do tell us!

_Lizzie._ Well, then, you must be secret.

_Fanny and Hetty._ Of course, of course!

_Lizzie._ Well, yesterday, at just twelve o'clock, I was in the hall;
the door-bell rang; I opened it; there was a box for Miss Hannah
Jones; I took it; I carried it to her room; I opened--

_Fanny and Hetty._ The box?

_Lizzie._ The door; she wasn't there. I put it on the table; it
slipped off; the cover rolled off; and such a sight!

_Fanny._ What was it?

_Hetty._ O, do tell us!

_Lizzie._ Four--great--red--

_Fanny and Hetty._ What? What?

_Lizzie._ Chignons!

_Hetty._ Chignons? Why, Miss Precise has forbidden our wearing them.

_Fanny._ O, it's horrible!

_Lizzie._ Ain't it? And I did want one so bad!

_Hetty._ But she cannot wear them.

_Lizzie._ We shall see! Now comes Miss Precise's trial. She has taken
Hannah Jones because her father is rich. She worships money; but if
there is anything she hates, it is chignons. If she can stand this
test, it will be the best thing in the world for us. Then we'll all
have them.

_Hetty._ Of cours