FRETTING LETTIE.

"LET! Let! Lettie!"

"I do wish," snapped Lettie Edmonds, as her brother Sidney rushed into the room, "that you wouldn't call me Let. I'm sure it is not so hard to speak two syllables together, Sid."

"Oh! I suppose Sid-ney is much more difficult, or perhaps your organs of speech are more delicate than mine. But I say, mother says for you to come and pare the potatoes for dinner."

Lettie slammed down the lid of the piano with a bang, and went into the kitchen with a discontented air.

"When you put on the potatoes, Lettie," said her mother, "run up and make the boys' beds. I must go and dress Carrie's burn. Poor child! She has been left too long this morning."

Lettie's frown deepened. "What are boys good for, I should like to know? They might just as well make their own beds as I."

"Yes," said Theo, coming in at the back door, "and I suppose you might just as well feed the cows and horses and hoe corn as we."

"Well, you don't have to slave from morning till night for somebody else, and put up with all the children's whims." And the potatoes were tumbled into the pot with a vim that sent the scalding water up over her hands, which of course was a new grievance.

Up-stairs went Lettie and jerked off the bedclothes, and flung them on a chair.

"Lettie," called her mother's voice from her own room, where she was dressing Carrie's burn.

"In a moment," answered Lettie crossly. When she was done she went to see what her mother wanted.

"Run and lift Ruby. I've heard her talking to herself for the last fifteen minutes, and I'm afraid she will fall out of bed."

O baby Ruby! With your clear black eyes shining with love for everybody, your dimpled peachy cheeks, your hair in little damp ringlets, and your four little teeth peeping like pearls through your parted lips. Why does your cry of joy hush, and a grieved look come into the pretty eyes? What could any mortal do but take you up and hug you again and again? Ah! Lettie's frowning face bends over her instead of mother's, and with a jerk she is lifted. Of course she cries and Lettie's evil spirit whispers, "What a nuisance a crying baby is!" In vain she tried to hush her, for she was in no mood to sing or talk baby talk to her. But now mother is done, and in a very short time Ruby's tears are changed to smiles.

"Ruby will play with her doll here," said Mrs. Edmonds, "while I go and see how cousin Patty is enjoying herself, and then get dinner."

"Lettie, won't you please read to me?" said Carrie, as Lettie took a book from the shelf.

"Oh! I'll give you a book, and you can read to yourself. Your arm don't affect your eyes."

"But, Lettie, I've read all the books except that new one, and I do want to hear it."

"Well, I can't read so fast aloud, and I'm sure I get little enough time to read," and Lettie enjoyed her book alone till the dinner-bell rang. A step on the stairs and in came Rob with a waiter holding Carrie's dinner.

"Here is your steward, ma'am," he said, setting down the waiter with a flourish. Lettie took up the baby to go down-stairs.

"Oh! it's dismal eating alone," said Carrie.

"So it must be," said Rob. "I'll just ask mother to let me bring my dinner up here."

"Oh! How nice; do," and in a few minutes Rob was back with his plate.

Dinner was over and Lettie was busy helping her mother with the week's ironing. "Mother," she burst out, "I think it's just dreadful to have such a large family as ours."

Her mother looked at her a moment. "Which of them would you like to do without?" she asked.

"But, mother, I do want to do so many things—draw and paint, and study music, and read, and there is no time for anything but scrub and iron and bake and churn, and—" She stopped suddenly as she saw Cousin Patty in the doorway.

The next afternoon Cousin Patty and Mrs. Edmonds were seated at their sewing in the shady dining-room. Cousin Patty was a woman of much experience, and an independent fortune. She was a cousin of Mrs. Edmond's mother, and an old and tried friend. The children, however, knew her only from her letters, as her home was in a distant city, and until lately she had been closely confined at home by the care of an invalid mother.

"Cousin," said Mrs. Edmonds, "I'm puzzled to know what to do with Lettie. Haven't you noticed how fretful and impatient she is?"

"Why, I couldn't well help it," was the answer.

"I hoped she would outgrow it, but it seems rooted. Of course there is a great deal to do in such a family as ours, but her lot is no worse than the rest, and we all have good health."

"I think I can put you on a plan that will cure her," said Miss Patty, and then followed a low-toned conversation.

"Cousin tells me," said Mrs. Edmonds at the supper-table, "that she is going home on Thursday."

"Why, cousin," said Mr. Edmonds, "you should have told me sooner, that I might have sat and looked at you all the time you were here."

"I had intended to make a longer visit, but this afternoon I heard of urgent business requiring my return. Now, Benjamin, I have a proposition to make. You know I am a lonesome old maid, and as I see that Letitia is quite hampered here among so many, I think you might let her come and live with me. Of course old maids don't like children, but neither does Letitia, so we will just suit one another. You have so many you can spare one. I have won Caroline's consent if I can get yours."

The result was that at 8 A. M. Thursday Sidney left Miss Patty and Lettie on the platform of the morning train bound for the great city.

As they entered the car Miss Patty said to Lettie "Let me sit next the window. I hate to sit next the aisle. Some one always tramps my clothes." After they were seated she shut down the wooden screen.

"Why, Cousin Patty," exclaimed Lettie, "don't you want to see out?"

"And let in the cinders? Why, I've been over the road so often I know every stone in it."

Evening came, and they went up the steps of a large handsome house, and were admitted by a trim serving woman, who looked a little older than Miss Patty.

"Good evening, Tibbie. You got my note?"

"Yes, ma'am; and the room is ready, and everything as you told me."

Tibbie helped them carry their bundles upstairs, and while Miss Patty went on to the front room, she said to Lettie, "This is your room, Miss Letitia." Lettie found it beautifully furnished, mid rejoiced in the thought of the elegant leisure she was about to enjoy. It was rather lonely at night without Hattie's chatter, and it seemed so strange to have only Miss Patty to bid good-night.

The next day Miss Patty said, "My dear, I want you to feel that you have nothing to do but enjoy yourself. I do not want you to make your own bed even. Tibbie will do that. Choose your own amusements and employments."

It was very nice at first, and Lettie was loud in her praises of the new life, in writing to her mother and Hattie. By and by, however, she became tired of playing the piano in the lonely parlor, of drawing pictures which no one saw. Reading had made her head ache—a new experience—and she wearied of sitting and looking out of the window. She soon found that Tibbie did not like intruders in the kitchen. It was so quiet! Cousin Patty had provided her with nice clothing, but there was no one to see it. Cousin Patty's visitors were all elderly, and talked about things above her comprehension. If she hadn't felt ashamed, she would have asked for even a doll to keep her company. One day she asked Miss Patty, "Do no children ever visit you?"

"Why, not often, dear. Isn't it pleasant that they don't? They make such a disorder. Now at your father's it is so different. Sid wants something mended, or Rob has lost something and wants you to find it, or Lily has lost your thimble, or the baby has upset your work-basket, or some confusion all the time. Now here we have such perfect quiet."

Lettie said nothing, but a few moments later she slipped quietly to her own room. Miss Patty smiled and said, "The cure is working."

One morning, while Miss Patty was busy in the garden, Lettie stole out, as she thought, unseen. But Miss Patty saw her, and ran around to the kitchen and said to Tibbie, "She's gone. Run to the station, and keep her in sight."

"Dear, dear! If the child should get lost!" said Tibbie, rolling down her sleeves. In a little while she came back, quite excited.

"If you please, Miss Patty, she's gone the other way. I went and asked Towne if she bought a ticket. He said yes, she bought a ticket for Redpath, then Sam Pierce said, 'If she did she went on the wrong train then, for she took the down.'"

"Well, don't worry, Tibbie. There are telegraphs, you know," throwing off her gardening attire. "Get me my bonnet and gloves."

In a few moments she had arranged with Towne, and paid for a return ticket from the other end of the road. A message was sent to the conductor of No. 7. "Send back young lady for Redpath. Mistake in train."

Then Miss Patty sent a telegram to Mr. Edmonds: "Lettie left this morning. Will be home in the evening." So there at the station were Sid and Rob with the spring wagon, and Lily perched up between them, clapping her hands at the sight of the engine. Lettie hugged them all three, crying and laughing, and then asked, "What are you doing down here?"

"Came to meet you," said Rob.

"How did you know I was coming?"

"Miss Patty sent a telegram."

"Miss Patty! How did she know? Boys, I ran away."

"Whew!" whistled Sid. "She'll come and take you back, then."

A vague terror entered Lettie's heart, and she made up her mind that she would never go. What a joyful uproar there was, and how they all talked together! In the evening, when all had gone to bed except Lettie, Hattie, and their mother, Lettie said, "Mother, I think now that a large family is just delightful, and I don't know how you all put up with me before. Please forgive me. I'll not fret any more, if you'll only let me stay at home." You may be sure Mrs. Edmonds forgave her.

The next morning in stepped Miss Patty. Lettie caught up Ruby and went to meet her, with a little defiance and a great deal of shame in her face. "Miss Patty, I'm very sorry. You have been very good to me, but I can't go back. I'm glad I went with you, for I've learned that I do love the folks at home so much that I would rather be here than any place in the world."

"What! among these noisy children, and in all this fuss! What a curious taste!"

Miss Patty made quite a long visit, and Lettie confided to her mother her thought that she was much nicer there than at home.