" NO answer to my advertisement, mamma, and I must sit with idle hands for another day," said Clara with a despondent sigh, as the postman passed the door.
"You needn't do that, child, when I'm suffering for a new cap, and no one can suit me so well as you, if you have the spirits to do it," answered her mother from the sofa, where she spent most of her time bewailing her hard lot.
"Plenty of spirits, mamma, and what is still more necessary, plenty of materials; so I'll toss you up 'a love of a cap' before you know it."
And putting her own disappointment out of sight, pretty Clara fell to work with such good-will that even poor, fretful Mrs. Barlow cheered up in spite of herself.
"What a mercy it is that when everything else is