She promptly burst into tears, and reminded me that I "had engaged her for the sayson, an' what would a pore girl be doin' in the empty city in the middle of the summer?
"An' whativer they may say o' me ways down-stairs, it's the timper of a babby I have, an' would niver throw a harrd wurrd at a dog, let alone a human.

Whin they think me cross, it's only that I'm a bit quoiet, an' who can wonder?
thinkin' o' me pore brother as was drownded las' summer, an' him niver out o' me moind!" I weakly allowed her to stay upon promise of good and peaceable behavior, and tried to make the best of her, as she had of the place.
One September day, just when the physician, called in to see a dear young guest, had expressed his fear that she was sickening for a serious illness, Katy gave warning.

"Her feelin's would not allow her to stay in a house where there was sickness.

It always reminded her of her pore, dear brother what was drownded las' summer, an' a sick pairson made a quare lot o' extra work, even when it was considered in the wages.

She'd be lavin' that day week, her month bein' up then." Happily, the threatening of illness was a false alarm, but Katy is going.