. A bookful of girls . okful of Girls the youthful figure of distracted mien, theworsted tidies on the haircloth sofa, andthe neat alpaca occupant of the stuffedrocker. Again the sewing was forgot-ten, and Miss Beckys glittering spectacleswere fixed upon the tragic queen. Asthe queer little figure stalked solemnlydown the room, eyes fixed in a glassystare, hands wringing one another dis-tressfully ; as a moving wail rent the air,to the effect that all the perfumes ofArabia will not sweeten this little hand,a most agreeable succession of shiversmade a highway of Miss Beckys spine. Why dont you
. A bookful of girls . okful of Girls the youthful figure of distracted mien, theworsted tidies on the haircloth sofa, andthe neat alpaca occupant of the stuffedrocker. Again the sewing was forgot-ten, and Miss Beckys glittering spectacleswere fixed upon the tragic queen. Asthe queer little figure stalked solemnlydown the room, eyes fixed in a glassystare, hands wringing one another dis-tressfully ; as a moving wail rent the air,to the effect that all the perfumes ofArabia will not sweeten this little hand,a most agreeable succession of shiversmade a highway of Miss Beckys spine. Why dont you ever go to the theatrenow, Miss Becky ? Nannie asked, when,having laid aside her tragic toggery, shecame in her own person to take herleave. I should think youd like to goagain. Oh, yes, I should be reel tickled to goagain, but I aint got nobody to go with,and, well—there s other reasons besides. Nannie blushed to think how inconsid-erate she had been to force her old friendto allude, even indirectly, to her poverty,. All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweetenthis little hand. Nannies Theatre Party 203 and she walked up the dusty road to herown gate, filled with compunction. Justoutside the gate was a little wilderness ofgoldenrod and asters. She thought whata pity it was they should get so gray withdust. Poor things, they could not helpit; they had to stay where chance hadplanted them unless somebody pickedthem and carried them away, and even thenthey left their roots behind them. Some-how they made her think of Miss Becky,living her little narrow, stationary life allalone in the old tumble-down just at this point in her reflectionsa delightful scheme came into her head. Now, Nannie was the recipient of aslender monthly allowance intended forgloves and ruchings, postage stamps, andthe like, and, having spent the last fourmonths far from the allurements of cityshops, she happened at this juncture tobe in funds. Her stock of gloves, to besure, was pretty well ex
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