GODEY'S LADY'S BOOK
Philadelphia, April 1850

LETTER FROM_ TIMBERVILLE.

I know you will pardon my long silence, when you learn the important fact that I am at housekeeping- If you have experienced the trials and vexations which usually attend the setting up of an establishment, surely I shall have your hearty sympathy. But I do not believe you know anything about the enormity of such an undertaking in the country. In the city, you are free from a thousand annoyances and hinderances which we have to endure in a place like Timberville, busy, bustling, noisy, and growing; a place neither city nor country, but, as it were, in a state of betweenity aping the former, yet possessing many of the peculiarities of the latter, but in nothing resembling those old-fashioned, stationary country villages, in one of which I had the happiness to be born and reared. Dear, old Greenvalley ! It has been in appearance just what it now is, ever since my earliest recollection. There was undoubtedly a time when it was new and growing, but that time has faded from the memory of man. The only external changes which I remark, as I return from time to time to the peaceful shade of its majestic old elms, are, that here and there a roof has been newly shingled, a fence repaired, and occasionally an entire house has gone up in the place of one that had fallen quite to decay. One by one, the white-haired patriarchs of the hamlet have been gathered to their final rest, while those of their descendants who have caught this age's restless spirit of adventure, have gone to " seek their fortunes" elsewhere. Only such remain as are content to pursue the tranquil tenor of their fathers' way. Heaven forbid that Greenvalley should ever "take a start and grow."

Here, there is no such thing as doing anything quietly. The whole village must know all your proceedings; everybody must " have a hand in it;" and unless you receive with a good grace the proffered assistance, you are for ever undone. I resolved to take warning from the unhappy fate .,f a certain Mrs. D., who came here to reside about two years ago, and not render myself unpopular, as she had done. Unfortunate woman ! She declined the officious offers of the Timberville ladies, to help her "get to rights," and those rather, with the assistance of the members of her own household, to fit her carpets herself, arrange her furniture, and, what was the most aggravating of all, to unpack her trunks and bureaus without so much as allowing any of the aforesaid ladies a peep at their intents. Mrs. Philpott, animadverting to me upon Mrs. D.'s conduct, remarked, " We don't know to this day what was in them boxes."

As I did not desire the reputation of being " stuck up," I surrendered, with apparent cheerfulness, my house and furniture to the mercy of some ten or a dozen of the Timberville ladies, for the space of about a week. My husband retreated in alarm from the scene of action, and remained quietly at Mrs. Pratt's until the house was pronounced to be " to rights." Joe Pratt said he thought it might with more propriety be called :to wrongs a very just remark of Joe's; for actually we were occupied a full week longer in undoing the greater part of what the ladies had done. Everything had to be rearranged. The carpets, which they had insisted upon making, had been sewed together in such a manner that the seams burst open, and the bindings gave out, during the process of nailing down, which was accomplished so crookedly, that one would have imagined every person who assisted thereat to have differed from the rest in her opinion respecting the manner in which they ought to lie. Of course, they had all to be taken up, re-sewed, and put down straight.

But, after the siege which the house had undergone, I thought I had reason to congratulate myself that the destruction of property had been no greater than it was. When they unpacked the crockery, and I saw half a dozen pulling and hauling at it, I certainly expected to see it nearly all go to pieces. Consequently, I was thankful to escape with the loss of a few pieces of china, just enough to spoil a set, the demolition of a large lamp-shade, which Mrs. Harris had smashed in her eagerness to draw it from its concealment, and the ruination of a valuable framed engraving, which Mrs. Bolton (our literati ) accidentally dashed against the corner of the stove, thereby breaking the glass into numberless atoms, and bursting a hole through the middle of the picture. The good lady fancied that she made more than ample compensation by sending me the next day a daub of a painting—a couple of women leading a donkey, and two or three huts-in the distance. She accompanied this gift with a note, wherein she stated that the painting was one of a number which she had recently purchased in Philadelphia; it was " a view of Switzerland, an oriental village near Paris;" Mr. Milligan, the great traveler whom she had met in the city, pronounced it to be a perfect representation.

During the readjustment of affairs, my friend, Joe Pratt, was very useful to us. The little fellow was constantly on hand, ready. to assist in a thousand ways. We continued to take our meals at his mother's until everything was arranged at our new abode. When, finally, that time arrived, and I said, " Well, Joe, I believe we are all fixed at last," the poor boy looked anything but pleased. He would no longer have any excuse for running back and forth. He must stay all day at home, with no relief from his mother's fretfulness and his sister's rebuffs. His daily visits to my room, his lessons, and our pleasant rambles together, they must all be given up, and Joe was sad.

"Joe," said I, reading his thoughts, " I shall miss you very much."

" And I shall be so lonesome," said he, stretching his eyes open very wide, to prevent the tears from running out; " and mother talks of moving away to Ohio, too, and then I shall never see you again."

The idea of parting with Joe was painful to me; for I had become greatly attached to him.. A thought struck me of keeping him with us. I, however, said nothing to Joe about it at that time, wishing first to consult my husband on the subject. When Mr. Waters came in I mentioned it to him; -he approved the plan; and we accordingly proposed to Mrs. Pratt that, in case of her removing from Timberville, she should leave Joe with us for at least a year or two. At first, the worthy woman did not appear much inclined to accede to the proposal, and dwelt with great emphasis upon the pain of parting with her only son. But as soon as she fairly understood that we wished to relieve her from all expense on his account, her feelings underwent a modification; her objections vanished, and she consented. And so it is settled. Mrs. P. is to remove to Ohio next month, accompanied by her daughters. and Joe is to come and live with us; an arrangement highly satisfactory to that young gentleman.

The greatest trouble which I have experienced thus far in housekeeping here, has arisen from the difficulty of procuring servants that are Good for anything. During the first two months I had four different ones. Our first specimen in this line was a girl from the wilds of Pennsylvania, whom Mrs. Stokes procured for me, and pronounced to be " excellent help." She rejoiced in the euphonious cognomen of " Rowena Ruggles." I had been expecting her for several days, but she did not come until the second evening after we were settled in our new home. Her approach was announced by the rattling of a very noisy lumber wagon, which stopped in the middle of the road in front of our house. I looked up and beheld an overgrown, raw-boned girl, accompanied by a gawky boy who drove. The girl was seated on a huge pine box. She rose up in the vehicle, and, after taking a comprehensive view of the house, exclaimed: "Wal, I guess this ere's the sittiwation. Jeemes, I'll hold the horse while you git out and go see 'f the Waterses lives here, if they do, you tell 'em that Miss Ruggles has arriv'. " Just then a boy, who was passing, gave them the desired information, and the girl alighted and came in. She entered the front door without taking the slightest notice of the bell, and walked into the parlor where I was sitting. " How do ye do ?" said she; then casting herself down on the sofa with native ease and freedom of manner, remarked: " This is Miss

Waters, ain't it?" I assented. " Wal, I'm Miss Ruggles," said she, " the young lady you was suspectin'." After communicating this piece of intelligence, she took off her tawdry pink silk bonnet and white gauze long shawl, and, laying them on the centre-table, inquired: "Hain't you no men folks round? I guess Jeemes'll want some resistanee about fetehin' in my ehist." But resistance underrated Jeemes's abilities for at that moment he came dragging up the steps the enormous pine box.

Having, by this time, recovered in a measure from the astonishment into which the unceremonious entrance of Miss Ruggles had thrown me, I advanced and met the young gentleman in the hall, and, having directed him where to bestow his sister's box, returned to the parlor and requested Rowena to bring her bonnet and shawl and I would show her where her room was. She complied; and, on the way, inquired "whether we'd ben to supper?" I answered in the affirmative; whereupon she informed me that she " hadn't had none, and Jeemes would want some 'fore he went back with the surveyance." I got them supper, after which Jeemes returned home; and, after giving Rowena some instructions in regard to her work, I retired with some misgivings, and left her to wash up the dishes.

Upon farther acquaintance with Miss Ruggles, I discovered that she understood housework much better than I at first supposed. She could bake, and wash, and do plain cooking very well; but her notions of equality, and her utter ignorance of the proprieties of her station, rendered it very difficult to get on with her. She seemed to expect me to be in the kitchen at work as long as she was there, though in our little family there was not enough work to occupy nearly all of her own time. Every afternoon, she arrayed herself in a very stiffly starched petticoat, and blue muslin dress, and " joined me in the parlor" (as novels say). Her dress, which fastened in the back, she could only hook a little way up, so she bawled out, as she entered, " Miss Waters, I'll get you to hook up my frock " After I had performed this service for her, she was wont to complete her toilet before the parlor glass. After having adjusted a broad, yellow ribbon around her neck, put on a pair of lace cuffs decorated with pink bows, and stuck an immense red and green plaid rosette in her mud-colored hair, she threw herself on the sofa; or, if I did not happen to be occupying it, m my large rocking-chair, and began to converse without restraint. She generally entertained me with an account of the various " ways" of the various ladies with whom she had lived, occasionally diversified with remarks like the followings: " I like the way you do up your hair, Miss Waters. I guess I'll git you to fix mine for me some time. I ain't no great hand to do up hair myself. Sister Batsey—she's married a Brigham now, and live to the Flatts out here—she's quite a hand to do up hair; hern's a'most as black as your'n. That frock o' your'n looks jest like one Batsey's got; shouldn't wonder if 'twas off the same piece. What did you hef to give a yard for that?"

No matter what I was doing—reading, writing, whatever might be my occupation—it was no cheek upon Miss Ruggles's volubility. lt was a dreadful annoyance, and I resolved to get rid of it; but not liking to offend her by telling her that I would prefer her "room to her company," I tried various expedients to induce her to spend the afternoon elsewhere. I offered her useful books to read in her own room; but she"wa'n't no hand for books." I discovered, on investigation, that she could barely spell out a few words, and had never learned to write at all. I offered to teach her, and told her that I had a spare writing-desk, which she might keep in her room and practice every afternoon. But she declined, saying that " she didn't see no use o' much eddication; her brother Brigham was eddicated, and that answered for 'em all." I asked if she had no sewing that she would like to do, and hinted that her room possessed great conveniences for such employment. But " she wa'n't no hand to sew; sister Batsey ginerally made her things for her. " At length my patience was exhausted, when, on returning one evening with Mr. Waters from a walk, we found Rowena in the parlor, seated in my rocking—chair, with her feet on an ottoman, my Cologne bottle in her hand, and playing the hostess to Monsieur-Laborde, Mr. Griffin, and Mr. Bunker, who had called upon us. The gentlemen had evidently been highly entertained with her easy manners and conversational powers. I was thoroughly vexed, and told her emphatically to leave the room. Her surprise was equaled only by her indignation. She went out in high dudgeon, slamming the door behind her, to the great amusement of the gentlemen. M. Laborde remarked that "Miss Roogle was very divertissante." Her proceedings were anything but amusing to me, whatever they might have been to Monsieur and his companions.

When Rowena retreated from the parlor, she went out, by way of compensation, to call upon Mrs. Crandal, the baker's wife, our next door neighbor, with whom she had struck up ant intimacy, and to whom she carried a daily report of " Miss Waters's curus ways." No doubt she received that lady's sincerest sympathy in her affliction, and probably acted upon her advice; for the next morning, as Mr. -Waters and I were sitting in the library, she came in abruptly and demanded her wages. It was Thursday. I had hitherto paid her on Saturdays.

"Why do you want your money to-day, Rowena ?" asked I.

" Because I'm a goin' to go," said she, angrily.

" What is the matter, Rowena ?" said I. " Why are you going off so suddenly ?"

" Pay her, Fanny, and let her go," said my husband, who is decidedly opposed to " having words" with servants.

I therefore went to a drawer and got the money for her. But Miss Ruggles was not disposed to depart without a few last words.

" I'm a goin'," said she, "' acause you've made an underlin' of me ever sence I come here. You hain't axed -me to set down to the table and take a meal o' vittels with ye onct; and Miss Crandal's help allers eats to the table with 'em, and Miss Crandal's as good as you be, any day; and she says it's an impersition. And my sister Batsey lived a year and a half to Squire Huger's, to the Flatts, and she allers eat to the table with 'em; and they was respectabler'n you be, and lived in enough sight grander house. And then, to cap all, you told me I wa'n't wanted in t'other room last night, and I ain't a goin' to put up with it no longer; and JO- and you may git yer work did the best way ye ken, for all I care."?'

Having thus relieved her mind, she retired, banging all the doors, and knocking down several chairs in her exit. In the afternoon, Jeemes came with the surveyance and took away her chist. A few days after her departure, my husband received by mail the following note, the production of her eddicated brother-in-law.

To mister fillip Wotters. sir

ef you Think that you and your Stuck up wife is a goin to Sale to -hevven in a grander bote than the one your help goes in, your Mistaken i gess. That interestin -young Lady roweny ruggles That you Treted so shameful is kalkulated to Be a nornament to Sociaty and would Be ef it want for such Stick ups as you And miss wotters is. i rite to let you no what i And all rite minded gentlemen And ladis Thinks of such karacters as you Be. so no more From yours contemptably.

SILAS BRIGHAM.

On the evening nfler Rowena left in disgust, Joe Pratt eame round to see me, and he undertook to proeure us another girl. He knew, he said, one Polly Baily, who had oeeasionally worked at his mother's when they had a great deal of eompany. He believed she was not very bright, but he knew her to be good-natured. She was now out of a place, and lived at a brothers. I thought I would at least make a trial of her. I therefore desired Joe to go and tell her to come to me for a few days. He readily complied, and soon returned with the information that Polly would be over in the morning. She would have come with him, but she wanted to mend her things and make a new calico apron that evening.

The next morning, while I was preparing breakfast, Polly arrived. She came in at the back door, and hailed me with—

"'Good mornin', Miss Waters. I s'pose that's you ?"

"Yes," said I; "and I suppose you are Polly Baily ?"

" 'Tain't nobody else," said she, depositing a small bundle on the table and taking off her bonnet, exhibiting thereby a most unique coiffure. Her hair, which was very thin, was all drawn together at the summit of her head, tied with a tape string, and twisted into a funny little pigtail. In person, Miss Baily was short and stout, her eyes were set bias in her head, and her mouth was entirely on one side of her face. If she lacked the dignity and stateliness of her predecessor, Miss Ruggles, she fully equaled that young lady in ease and self-possession.

" I should a come last night," continued she, " only my things needed mendin' and fixin', and I had a new calicer apron to make. You see, sisterin-law's baby's ben sick, and I've had so much to do, I hain't had a minnit's time to sew lately. But I didn't git at the apron last night, after all, for sister-in-law went to meetin', and the baby waked up and cried, and I had to tend it till she got back. So I fetcht my apron along: s'pose I shall git any time to make it here ?"

" O yes," replied I; " you will have some time to yourself every afternoon, unless something unusual happens; and you will find a drawer in the table in your room, where you can keep your work."

" Wal, if that ain't clever !" exclaimed Polly. " I shouldn't wonder if you was a goin' to be a real good woman to live with; though Miss Crandal says"—

" It is nearly breakfast-time, Polly," I said; " there are some mutton steaks to be broiled: do 'you know how to do them ?"

" Pity if I don't," she answered. " It takes me to cook mutton steaks. Why, when I lived to Miss"—

" Well, here is the gridiron; the coffee is already boiling, and will soon be done Do you understand making coffee ?"

" Pity if I don't ! Why I've made coffee ever sence I was so high. Jest tell me where things is, and I cam go ahead, as you'll find out 'fore I've lived with ye long. I ain't afeard but what I shall suit ye; everybody that has me once wants me agin. "

So I gave her the necessary information, and telling her to ring the bell when breakfast was on the table, was going out, when she called to me—

" Miss Waters ! I've heerd say how't you don't have your help eat to the table with you: is it so?"

" Yes, Polly," said I; " I always allow. my girls the -privilege of eating by themselves; they feel so much more at liberty to eat as much as they want, you know. "

" Wal now, ther is something in that," said Polly.

" And don't you take off none o' the vittels after you git through?"

" Certainly not; the girls always have the same that Mr. Waters and I have."

" Wal, I say for't; I don't see why that ain't a good idee. Miss Crandal needn't jaw about it as she does; for, after all, it's enough better'n the way . she manages. I lived there a spell once, and I used to eat to the table with 'em, and, it's a fact, I was half starved; for she used to be for ever tellin' the children 'twa'n't perlite to take anything mor'n once, and so ye see I darsen't do it; and then, the minmt they got through, she ketcht off the vittels and stuck 'em away under lock and key."

" I am glad you are satisfied with my arrangements, Polly," said I, escaping from the kitchen and rejoicing at having thus disposed of one grand difficulty.

Put that breakfast ! The mutton steaks were burnt to a coal, and quite uneatable. And the coffee ! what could be the matter with it ? At the first taste of it, Mr. Waters turned pale with consternation, and rushed to the door to " make restitution" of it (as M. Laborde says). I took a sip, and was obliged to follow his example. I never tasted anything so perfectly horrible. I called Polly, and asked her what she had done to the coffee ?

Why nothin'," said she; " only, when I took it up, I throw'd in a tablespoonful o' salt to settle it."

I went out and made a cup of tea, not daring to trust Polly to do it; and this, with the bread, which was cut in pieces an inch thick at one end, and slivered up as thin as a wafer at the other, constituted our breakfast. Mr. Waters thought it but a sorry beginning for our new functionary; but I told him that these were evils which, with proper training, could, I hoped soon be remedied. I spent the whole morning in instructing Polly, giving her the minutest directions about everything in her department of labor; in fact, doing all that related to the preparation of dinner myself, in order to show her how I wished it done; while she kept constantly asserting that " she knowd —she'd always ben used to doing —but then everybody liked their own ways best, and she was perfectly willin' to be teacht my ways, for she wanted to suit me," &c. &c.

After dinner I was in the library, when Polly came bolting in, with a look of extreme satisfaction on her face, and holding in each hand a broken tumbler; the bottoms were gone.

" Look o' there, Miss Waters !" she said. " Ain't you astonished ?"

" I am, indeed. How did you break those, Polly ?"

" O law !" said she, " that ain't it. I mean, ain't you astonished to see me come and tell on't ? 'Tain't every girl 'twould own up so when they broke a thing; but I do; you won't never ketch me a breakin' crockery and then stickin' on't away, out o' yer sight. I'm honest, as you'll find out 'fore I've lived with ye long."

On inquiry, I found that she had poured boiling water on the tumblers to wash them. I told her never to do so again; though, at the same time, I commended her honesty in telling me of the accident After she had got the kitchen "to rights," she came again.

" Wal, Miss Waters, the work's all did up now; and I'm ready to go at that apron, if you'll lend me a needle and some thread; I didn't think to fetch none . "

I furnished her with these requisites, and- she retired to her room. When it was nearly time for tea, she came running in again, quite out of breath, exclaiming —

"Don't ye think, Miss Waters, I hain't took a stitch in that apron yet !"

" Why, Polly," said I, " how comes that ? thought you had been sewing these two hours."

"Wal, that was what I meant to do," replied Polly; " but, ye see, I hadn't more'n got seated by my winder, ready to go at it, when Miss Crandal she spied me from her parlor winder, and she called to me to come over there; so I throwd down my work, ye know, and went over to see what she wanted, and there I've ben ever sence; and Miss Capers and Miss Bennet was there a visitin', you know, and they all three sot to and axed me more'n forty thousand questions about you, and all how I got along here, and what wages I got, and whether I eat to the table with you. I told 'em no; I had the privilege of eatin' by myself, without bein' watched every mou'ful I took, and I told 'em I had enough to eat, too; and a real nice room, besides, to sleep in, with a good clean bed, and a table, and a lookin'-glass in it. That made Miss Crandal feel ruther shamed, I guess; fur when It lived there, I had to sleep up garret, in an old trundle-bed, you know, right where all the old truck was kept, you know," &e. &c.

My hope's of Polly's improvement were doomed to be disappointed; for I found it utterly impossible to impress anything upon her mind. She could not remember from one hour to the next, much less from one day to another. Daily and hourly did I go through with the same process of training and directing. Daily and hourly did Polly protest that " she would remember that time, I'd see 'f she wouldn't," and as constantly did she continue to make the very same blunders over and over again. She would actually have salted the coffee again the second morning, if I had not discovered her intention in time to prevent such a catastrophe. And the tumblers would have been broken every day, had I not always superintended the dish-washing.

The day after she came, the fastidious sisters Bigelow (Carry and Lute) called upon me. I had just gone up stairs to dress, having been engaged longer than usual with my household duties, by reason of Polly's awkwardness. My maid of all work answered the summons of the bell, and admitted the ladies with a very vociferous " Why, girls, how do you do ? Come in."

" is Mrs. Waters at home?" said Miss Carry with great dignity.

" O yes; she's to hum," responded Polly; " she's

jest went up stairs to put on her tother things. You step in the parlor; take some cheers; now take off yer things." The ladies declined. " What, can't ye stay ? I know Miss Waters would like to hev you and I'm sure I should."

" Carry our names to Mrs. Waters." said Miss Bigelow, commandingly

" Your names !" said Polly, " less see, they're Carline and Lucy, ain't they ?"

" Tell her the Miss Bigelows are here," replied Carry, with a great accession of dignity to her tone and manner.

Polly was puzzled; but, without asking farther questions, she came to the foot of the stairs, which is close to the parlor door, and bawled out to me—

" Miss Waters ! the Miss Biglows is here. They told me to tell you their names—I b'leve they're Carline and Lucy. They hain't come to stay to tea; so you hurry and come down as quick as you kin. "

I was distracted ! I rushed out half dressed, and bending over the banister—

" Polly," said I, " don't stay there any longer. I'll be down in a moment."

" O law," replied the pertinacious Polly, " I'd jest as lives stay with 'em till you git ready as not."

So she returned to the parlor, and entertained the ladies with an account of the advantages of her new place; and I, knowing that to call to her again would only prolong the ridiculous scene, finished dressing with all possible expedition and hastened down, whereupon Polly withdrew, without waiting to be sent, saying "she guessed she'd go at that apron now." I apologized to the ladies for Polly's ignorance, and said that I hoped to be able to teach her something in the course of time. Miss Bigelow trusted that I would succeed in the attempt. Miss Lute remarked that such scenes were excessively annoying, and they both declared that the impertinence of the Timberville servants was quite intolerable to them, particularly after being at brother Peter's, where the domestics were under such perfect control, notwithstanding their number. They then went into a highly edifying description of the domestic economy of brother Peter's establishment, which occupied the remainder of the visit.

After they had gone, I spent an hour in teaching Polly her duty on such occasions. She promised faithfully to observe my directions. The next day Judge Conway and Mrs. Conway called; and Polly, will you believe it? went through with the very same performance which she had enacted with the Bigelows ! She was incorrigible but so really desirous to please me, that I was unwilling to give her up until I had taxed my ingenuity to the utmost to make something of her. But it was a fruitless task she could not remember; unless I was with her all the time, everything went wrong. I kept her two weeks, and then gave up in despair. The poor girl felt very badly when I told her that I must discharge her. She said, " she liked me better than anybody she had ever lived with; if I would only keep her, she would remember my ways and try to suit me." But I knew too well her utter incapacity to fulfill this promise to trust to her good intentions. One source of regret with Polly at leaving me was, that " she hadn't finished ' that apron' yet, and she shouldn't have a minute's time to sew at her sisterin-law's." You can therefore imagine her delight when I presented her a black silk apron, ready made, and her ecstasy at the addition of a collar and pair of cuffs to this gift.

" Why, Miss Waters !" said she, " you don't mean to give me these right out and out, do you?"

"Certainly, Polly," I relied.

" And ain't they 'ducted from my wages ?"

" By no means; they are a present; and here is your money, too."

"Wal, I say for't!" exclaimed she, '-'you be a clever woman and no mistake ! I'll show these to Miss Crandal, you see 'f I don't. She used to make me take mor'n half my wages in old clus."

ln real Timberville style, I am boring you to death with a history of my " helps." I will not enter into any more particulars on this inexhaustible theme but merely state that of the two whom I have tried since Polly's departure, the first was a thievish, intemperate Irish woman, whom I dismissed at the end of a week; and the last, a lazy, saucy back girl, of whom you may form a correct idea by this remark of hers. She one day saw two of our most respectable citizens taking a drunken, black rioter to jail. "Miss Waters," said she, "what you s'pose dem two white fellers is gwine to do wid dat colored gent ?" This sable functionary " 'eluded to trabel," and accordingly set out a few weeks ago for Avon Springs. Since then I have been without a domestic, and, by dint of putting out the washing, and having " old Sammy," an honest, faithful negro man, to come every morning and " do up the chores," I am getting on very well—nay, I enjoy it thoroughly. In fact, I did not know the extent of my own powers, until necessity forced the discovery upon me; and as every day strengthens my confidence in my own abilities, and my husband declares that he never was so happy in his life, I think I shall give myself no farther trouble about " helps," as long as we reside at Timberville.

Mrs. Crandal, having now no other means of espionage, has stuck up a back-door acquaintance with me; and, I believe, begins to think me not so proud, after all, since I am willing to " take right hold and do" myself. She actually brought in to me, yesterday, a present of some very nice " turnpike cakes" (did you ever hear of them before?) to raise bread with, and also gave me directions for using them, which I intend to put into practice next baking-day.

But there comes Mary Willis. The dear girl's frequent and unceremonious visits, constitute a great share of my enjoyment. I have but lately learned something of Mary's early history. I intend to give it to you at some future time; perhaps in my next.

F. M. W.

Godey's Lady's Book is brought to you by

Your Comments Welcomed! Copyright © 1996 EHP