MORE WAYS THAN ONE. 143

seemed time to do something about it. She had always
meant to, since she left school,—ever since she was called
off to make preserves the very first morning that she had set
about “a course of study,” with her door locked.

“Two times fifty are a hundred, and twice two— would
n’t she have a vacation ?— twice two is four. One hundred
and four dollars. Mother, if I will earn one hundred and
four dollars and hire Sue Crowe, will you take her for a
nursery-maid instead of me?”

“OQ yes,” said Mrs. Burden, listlessly, pinning and unpin-
ning the baby.

“ And be just as well contented ?”

“Yes.”

-“And not think I’m ugly nor selfish nor undutiful nor un-
daughterly nor anything?” s

“No, O no—where’s the baby’s other shoe? And I
declare! you ’ve let him get at Job’s paint-box, and —”

Beeb shut the door and stood still in the entry and sighed.
Evidently, her mother had not much faith in the prospective
services of Sue Crowe. Evidently, Beeb herself had not as
much as she would have liked.

However, she had a little perseverance, and that was some-
thing, and she did n’t much care what people said about her,
and that was more, and she was very, very tired of baby-
tending, and that was more yet.

So she kept her eyes open, and her ears too, and read the
newspapers and thought and planned, and gave up plans and