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 her. It was but middling wages I got there, and plenty of work, for I was the only one they kept, and he but a bookkeeper, and she a dilicate woman with plenty of small children. But then she laid out the work complately for me, and gave a lift herself when it was heavy, and was always taking thought for me, and asking when I heard from mother and Judy; when a letter came to me there was a rejoicing from the very top to the very least little one in the family. Mr. Tilson would say, 'So you've good news, Biddy?' and then Mrs. Tilson—bless her sweet voice—'You've good news, Biddy?' and Harry Tilson—their oldest—a bright lad he was, 'You've good news, Biddy? and so they handed it down to little Archy, who could just lisp it out, 'You've dood news, Biddy!' Och, they were just like the angels in heaven; where there was joy with one, there was joy with all. Everything I know I learned there; Mrs. Tilson was always telling me there is a right and a wrong way to everything, Biddy, and she showed me the right way to do this, and tached me the right way to do t'other. Ah, if the ladies were the like of her, half the trouble with their people would be over, and t'other half would not be to spake of. And when the bitter news of my mother's death came, she cried with me, and they all cried, from the top of the house down to Archy; sure, Lucy, it lightens the heart to have others fret with you."

"Oh, Biddy, how could you leave such people?"

"Sure and they left me, Lucy. It was a burning day in August when Mr. Tilson fell in a fit; the doctors said it all came from writing too constant, so they moved off into the country. I would