HILE Cherry was busy all day long, from early morning, when she cleaned the doctor's step, till evening, when she read poor suffering Miss Hobson to sleep, little Kittie Blunt was learning her life-lessons too.
"Kittie," said Mrs. Blunt one day, as she and the little girl stood over their washing-tub, "I shouldn't like you to grow up like Pollie, and them girls, as is never satisfied unless they're at their doors gossipin'."
"Well, I don't, mother," answered Kittie, a little sulkily.
"No, you don't; but if you go so much with Pollie it won't be long afore you do."
"I don't go with Pollie now," said Kittie. "I should ha' thought as you'd seen that I didn't, mother, since—that Sunday."
"I'm glad on it," said Mrs. Blunt heartily. "That's good news, Kittie. You'll grow up to be a comfort to me yet."
Kittie wrung out a towel very hard, but she half shook her head.
"Yes, you will, Kit. It may be a deal easier to you now to go out on the step, and see folks passin', and have a grumble with Pollie; but by-and-by, if you're steady, you'll find it a deal easier to sit down with mother to a bit o' work, and have a chat or a bit o' readin'."
"'Tain't that I care so much for Pollie," answered the girl rather dolefully; "but you don't know how dull it seems in 'ere, instead of outside, mother; leastways when you're used to goin' out."
Mrs. Blunt did not answer, for Kittie's words gave her a pang. If her child only would believe that she knew best!