This Department is conducted in the interest of Girls and Young Women, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on the subject so far as possible. Correspondents should address Editor.
"I haven't a talent worth speaking of," said Louise, throwing herself down on the rug before the fire, and looking as mournful as a red-cheeked, dimpled young person with merry black eyes and a laughing mouth could possibly do.
"That is really a great pity, Louise," said I, tossing her a pillow to put under the pretty head. In certain moods, and at certain hours, particularly when it is near supper-time, in the delightful hour between daylight and dark, there is nothing more pleasant and more conducive to thought and to a quiet talk with a friend whom you love than just to lie on a fur rug in front of an open fire with a soft cushion under your head. Try it, and see if you do not like it, my dear.
"Where were you going when I met you yesterday morning, Louise?" I inquired, casually.
"With the little basket and the bundle?" she asked.
"Yes, my dear."
"Oh, then! I was carrying some jelly and a sponge-cake to old Mrs. Andrews, who is ill and has no appetite. Her daughter goes out sewing, and the children can manage to cook for themselves; but the dear grandmother is neglected, so I thought she might enjoy something from our table. The bundle was from mamma, but I helped pack it, and there were enough things in it, if you'll believe me, to make the poor lady happy for the season—a warm flannel petticoat, a little shawl for her shoulders, and a pair of bedroom slippers. I never felt so glad in my life as when I saw how little a thing can make some people happy."
"We missed you from the pew on Sunday, Louise," I added, after a little interval of silence and reflection. "Your father and mother looked lonely without you sitting in the corner as usual."
"Yes," said Louise, "I did not like to miss a service, and, of course, mamma said that Dr. —— never preached a lovelier sermon; but what could I do? Cousin Alice hasn't been to church a morning this winter. She does not like to leave the children with the nurse, who manages very well with the baby, but cannot amuse Harold and Sue. So I told her to go to church and be at ease, and I would entertain the little man and woman, and I did, and I had my hands full. I don't wonder that Cousin Alice looks tired out at the end of the day. Such fidgety, restless, uproarious, sweet little pickles as those tots of hers are I never saw! I'm going to help her with them at least once a month in the same way."