"What's the use of being so cross, Maude?" asked Amy, a bright-eyed girl of twelve. "I can't see that it does any good."
"I can't be so easy as you are, Amy. I wish things didn't fret me, but they do. And you have an easy time, while I have to work like a slave."
"I'm sure I help you all I can, Maude. I don't suppose you want me to stay out of school to work."
"You know I don't. You won't have time to do any more this morning. Now, Fred, I told you to study hard to-day and not fail in your lessons."
"All right sis," rejoined Fred carelessly.
"Fred, how many times have I told you not to call me 'Sis?' I am tired beyond endurance. I don't want to hear another word from you this morning, sir," she added as she saw the boy was about to speak.
As the children left the house, Fred looked significantly at his sister.
"Wasn't Maude cross this morning? How she did bang things!"
Amy puckered up her brow.
"I can't understand it, Fred. Maude is always scolding."