I was not going to be a peony flaunting among thrifty modest vetches.

At first I was sorry for the destruction of my pretty things, but soon I grew to admire the demureness of my gray gown and little black apron.

I learned to make pies and cakes, to sweep a room and set it to rights, to wash and get up linen and laces, to churn, to make butter.

But as many hands were engaged in these matters, I was often thrown out of employment.

I made music for my friends in the evenings, and, as they liked it, this was something; but it was not enough.