he always could manage things for every one. That set me to
wondering if by any possible means he could fix them for himself. I
climbed to the catalpa to think, and the more I thought, the more I
feared he couldn't; but still mother always says one never can tell
until they try, and I knew he would try with every ounce of brain and
muscle in him. I sat there until the supper bell rang, and then I
washed and reached the table last. The very first thing, mother asked
how I bruised my face, and before I could think what to tell her, Leon
said just as careless like: "Oh she must have run against something
hard, playing tag at recess." Laddie began talking about Peter coming
that night, and every one forgot me, but pretty soon I slipped a glance
at Miss Amelia, and saw that her face was redder than mine.

CHAPTER VI

The Wedding Gown

"The gay belles of fashion may boast of excelling
In waltz or cotillon, at whist or quadrille;
And seek admiration by vauntingly telling
Of drawing and painting, and musical skill;
But give me the fair one, in country or city,
Whose home and its duties are dear to her heart,
Who cheerfully warbles some rustical ditty,
While plying the needle with exquisite art:
The bright little needle, the swift-flying needle,
The needle directed by beauty and art."

The next morning Miss Amelia finished the chapter--that made two for
our family. Father always read one before breakfast--no wonder I knew
the Bible quite well--then we sang a song, and she made a stiff, little
prayer. I had my doubts about her prayers; she was on no such terms
with the Lord as my father. He got right at Him and talked like a
doctor, and you felt he had some influence, and there was at least a
possibility that he might get what he asked for; but Miss Amelia prayed
as if the Lord were ten million miles away, and she would be surprised
to pieces if she got anything she wanted. When she asked the Almighty
to make us good, obedient children, there was not a word she said that
showed she trusted either the Lord or us, or thought there was anything
between us and heaven that might make us good because we wanted to be.
You couldn't keep your eyes from the big gad and ruler on her desk; she
often fingered them as she prayed, and you knew from her stiff, little,
sawed-out petition that her faith was in implements, and she'd hit you
a crack the minute she was the least angry, same as sh