“I know what to do,” said Pauline; “let’s play school. We can read and spell and make numbers, and maybe we can study geography a little; then when we go to school to-morrow teacher will be so s’prised to see how much we have learned; and then she’ll smile, and maybe she will kiss us, every one! Won’t that be fun?”
She didn’t try to rhyme, but in her eagerness it came of itself.
So they had school, and Metza played teacher, and Pauline sat by little Gretchen, and Fritz and Mary sat with them on the long lounge, and they had such a nice time they forgot that it was storming outside, and were much astonished when at noon papa came home to lunch, and so sorry they had forgotten to heat the water for his coffee.
But when they told him what a nice time they had had, he smiled, and said, “My Pauline has been a good mother to-day.” And she thought, “I have the best papa in the world.”
G. R. A.
“THIS STICK IS BROKED OFF,” SAID LORA.
PERFUMED GLOVES.
PERFUMED gloves were brought from Italy by Edward Vere, Earl of Oxford, after his exile, and his present to Queen Elizabeth of a pair with embroidered roses is mentioned in history. But the refinement of perfumed gloves had been known for three centuries in France before the days of the Virgin Queen, and in Spain the gloves were famous for the scent imparted to them long before her day. The luxurious court of Charles the Second used perfumed gloves, and those “trimmed and laced as fine as Nell’s,” you have no doubt read about. Louis the Fourteenth also issued letter patents of his “marchands maitres gantiers parfeumeurs.” In Venice, where the love of dress was conspicuous, perfumed gloves were introduced by a dogess as early as 1075.—Selected.