had never extracted from her hardbound mistress one approving word, it being one of that lady's golden "rules" not to praise servants, lest they should take advantage of it!
Nearly two weeks passed without any recordable event in the life of our humble heroine, but they were not profitless. The Father of all leads his faithful children by no barren way. For them there are gleanings in the most steril fields. Lucy, while serving others, was educating herself. Besides the daily exercise of difficult virtues, she was increasing her value by learning to perform domestic offices well. Mrs. Broadson had not given her life and her soul to house-affairs without excelling, and Lucy learned in her novitiate the most thorough mode of dusting, how most accurately to make a bed, the best way of cleaning plate, and that heavy duty of our winters, polishing brasses.
"Mother was mistaken about one thing," thought she, as day after day passed without her painstaking winning one compensating smile. "I shall never make friends here." Lucy despaired too soon.
Mrs. Broadson's spouse had some infirmities that were particularly annoying to her. He had an inveterate habit of dropping his handkerchief, misplacing the newspaper, mislaying his spectacles, and leaving his snuff-box on the mantelpiece. These misdeeds called forth strictures from his lady that, in their irritating effect, were much like a smoky chimney, or a shower of hail in the face. "How strange! Mr. Broadson," she would exclaim, "why can't you just tuck the newspaper under these books — I always do; there! you've
