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 up the spot o' work you've made on my kitchen floor, that I washed the last thing before I went abroad, this blessed day."

"My face smarts so that I can't," said Nattie, in tears.

"It won't smart none the worse, nor quite so bad, when you're to work," responded Bridget, flinging out of the kitchen with an indignant air.

Nattie had a little awe of Biddy when she was vexed; so, with her smarting face and fingers, she set about gathering the broken potatoes together, and wiping the smeared hearth. The kettle she put away under the sink, without cleaning.

The coughing fit of Mrs. Nesmith brought on bleeding, and the doctor had to be sent for in haste. Nattie was driven forth on this errand; for Biddy's wrath was up, and she declared that she would not trust het with the house "a blessed minute, again." The cold air made the smarting face feel better, while she was exposed to it, though the pain seemed doubled when she returned