"The other morning finished up the rags on hand--but you are doing your best, with flimsy finery, to get up a new assortment." "Now, that is unkind in you, Mr.Smith," said I, feeling hurt, and looking and speaking as I felt.

"Really unkind in you.

I'm sure it's no pleasure for me to work, work, work, from morning till night, until I'm worn down and good for nothing.

I wish my children to look decent at least; and to do this at as small cost to you as possible.
You can't change me with wasting your property, at least." "There, there, dear! That will do.

Say no more about it," returned Mr.Smith, in a soothing voice.