bout being good, I guess."

But Ruby had to listen to a great many lectures, whether she liked them
or not, in the next few days. Miss Abigail came and stayed with them
for all the rest of the week, and as she believed in little girls being
made useful, Ruby had to spend a good deal of time in picking out
bastings, and doing other little things for Miss Abigail.

"Oh, dear, I have n't done one single thing since I can remember," Ruby
said, impatiently, to Ruthy one day when her little friend came over to
see her; "I have n't done one single thing but pick out bastings and
have Miss Abigail telling me how good I ought to be 'cause I have so
many new dresses. I do wish she was all done and had gone away."

"But then you will go away, too, you know," Ruthy suggested.

"I wish I would n't; I wish I was going to stay here for a week after
she went," Ruby answered. "I think Aunt Emma might stop her, I do so."

"How do you mean?" asked Ruthy.

"Well, I know what I would do," said Ruby. "I would say to her this
way--" and Ruby held her head very high, and tried to look exceedingly
dignified--"I should say, 'Miss Abigail, if you will please tend to
making Ruby's dresses, I will tend to her behavior.'"

Ruthy looked rather shocked.

"I am afraid that would make Miss Abigail feel dreadfully bad, to have
your auntie say such a thing," she said. "I think Miss Abigail is real
nice, I truly do. She saves pretty pieces of calico for my patch-work,
and once she gave me a sash for my doll; don't you remember it?--that
blue one, with a little rose bud in the middle."

"Well, I don't like her," and Ruby shook her shoulders. "And I don't
think it's nice in you to like her, when she makes me perfectly
miserable. How would you like it if every time you wanted to do
anything you heard her calling you, and had to go in and be fitted and
fitted. She holds pins in her mouth, too, a whole row of them, and
mamma never lets me do that, so Miss Abigail ought not to, and I just
think I will tell her so. She has a whole row of them, just as long as
her mouth is wide, and they bristle straight out when she talks. Just
suppose she should drop some down my neck when she is talking. They
would stick in to me, and hurt me like everything before I could get
them out. I guess I would n't like that, would I? And if you had to
stand just hours and hours, and have her cold fingers poking around
your neck, and those great sharp scissors goi