"Charlie gets the blind side of every one in the house; but go on your own way, Lucy. Bless me! when did you scour that knife and fork. It must be confessed, you have profited by living next door. Such a body as Mrs. Simson has her uses for those who know how to catch the good and leave the bad."
"The bad was so disagreeable, Mrs. Lovett, you could not catch it." Lucy was right. It is the faults of the good and loveable that we are in danger of imbibing.
John had finished his recitation in that charming school-book—charming alike to teacher and learner—"Popular Lessons," and was now in eager pursuit of his slate. "Have you seen it, mother?" he asked
"No—how is that, Sam—seven times seven is fifty—think again—Lucy, dear, just set the baby down and look for John's slate."
"Oh, mother! Miss Selden said I must not come to school again without strings in both my shoes."
"Lucy, dear, run into the bedroom and look for a piece of galloon—it is in the upper drawer, or the under, or on the table—oh, perhaps in my piece basket." Alas for the chase through that labyrinth.
"Oh, Lucy, please to find my cap—blame it! it's always gone."
"Find it yourself, Bob—don't call on Lucy for everything."
the washwomen, that good-natured people's clothes "wash easy." There is philosophy in this. What a pity a moral power should be wasted which is a more certain lightener of labour than the best patent washing-machine ever contrived.
