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Rh But no, Caroline must keep her hands in good condition to practise her music; and the other girls had a horror of cows!

Equally trivial was Ellen Ann's excuse, when I suggested that she should collect the remnants which are going to waste in your scrap bags, and piece a quilt with which to eke out your bedding. Ellen Ann was preparing for college, and had to study her Greek and Latin. (I doubt her ability; she is too much like you, Mary Ann, whose book learning was always superficial.)

You may remember, also, that Mary (foolishly nicknamed Molly) once flatly refused to trim the grass borders of the path with sheep shears, though I carefully explained to her that by so doing she would save a laborer's hire, and that "a penny saved is a penny earned." But Mary will never do any thing but laugh, and talk, and have a good time.

I could cite other instances, but these are enough to illustrate my point. I forgive my nieces for their past misdoings, and offer them one more chance.

For they are Weathersbys.

The iron box is in a safe place, and will not easily be found, if I know your daughters, and I think I do. However, should one of them be smart enough to find it, the box and all that is in it and pertains to it shall be hers to do with as she pleases.

The hiding place of the box will be marked by a sign. That sign is a circle within a circle.

The key is with Cyrus Clifford, though he does not know the whereabouts of the box it unlocks. No man should be trusted too far.

It is only proper to state that I have deposited a sum of money with an attorney named Otis (who appears honest, though there is no telling—at least, he does not smoke cigarettes), with which he is to pay all insurance and taxes due on my houses and lands, in advance for one year, beginning with the date of my death. He will also collect all rentals pertaining to said houses and lands, and deposit the funds therefrom in the First National Bank with Cyrus Clifford, who will hold them in trust until the expiration of the year.

Mr. Otis and my servant, Amanda Cummins, are the witnesses to the first will. Amanda can be trusted to hold her tongue. I know not about Mr. Otis, he being a man.

No one except my three nieces shall participate in the search, nor shall they receive advice upon the subject from any one.

Good-by to all, and good luck to one of you.

Affectionately, ELLEN WEATHERSBY.

By the time Caroline had finished reading this frank and ingenuous epistle we were all bordering on that state of mind vulgarly described as being "knocked silly." We were amused, indignant, and disappointed by turns. We stared at one another mistily.

"So my year abroad to study the great masters turns out to be a myth of the first quality,” said Caroline, trying to speak lightly.