"And a book on raising poultry that my father used to consult," she added; "I always keep it on the table in the best parlor. I'll send it by mail. It's wonderful what things can go through the post-office nowadays. These are times to live in, I do declare, what with chicks without a mother and everything else."

Aunt Betsey was true to her word. During the following week a package arrived most lightly tied up, and addressed in an old-fashioned, indefinite hand to "Jackie Franklin, Brenton, Mass." Within was an ancient book which described the methods of raising poultry in the early days of the century, and inside of the book were seventy-five dollars in crisp new bank-notes.

It was a week or two after the installation of the incubator that Edith was seized with what Cynthia called "one of her terribly tidy fits."

"I am going to do some house-cleaning," she announced one beautiful Saturday morning, when Cynthia was hurrying through her Monday's lessons in a wild desire to get to the river. "Cynthia, you must help me. We'll clear out all the drawers and closets in the 'north room,' and give away everything we don't need, and then have Martha clean the room."

"Oh no!" exclaimed Cynthia; "everything in this house is as neat as a pin. And we haven't got anything we don't need, Edith. And I can't. I must go on the river."

"You can go afterwards. You can spend all the afternoon on the river. This is a splendid chance for house-cleaning, with the children off for the morning. Come along, Cynthia—there's a dear."

Cynthia slowly and mournfully followed Edith up the stairs. She might have held out and gone on the river, but she knew Edith would do it alone if she deserted her, and Cynthia was unselfish, much as she detested house-cleaning.

"I am going to be very particular to-day," said Edith, as she wiped the ornaments of the room with her dusting-cloth and laid them on the bed to be covered, and took down some of the pictures.

"More particular than usual?"

"Yes, ever so much. I've been thinking about it a great deal. In all probability I shall always keep house for papa, and I mean to be the very best kind of a house-keeper. I am going to make a study of it. The house shall always be as neat as it can possibly be, and the meals shall be perfect. Then another thing," pursued Edith, from the closet where she was lifting down boxes and pulling out drawers. "I am going to be lovely with the children. They are to be taught to obey me implicitly, the very minute I speak. I am going to train them that way. I shall say one word, very gently, and that will be enough. I have been reading a book on that very subject. The eldest sister made up her mind to do that, and it worked splendidly."