came in. But Berry is just as quick as a flash, and he ducked down under the window-sill: so she didn't see him. It was such fun!"
"Who's Miss Jane?" asked Katy.
"The horridest old thing. She's Mrs. Florence's niece, and engaged to a missionary. Mrs. Florence keeps her on purpose to spy us girls, and report when we break the rules. Oh, those rules! Just wait til' you come to read 'em over. They're nailed up on all the doors,—thirty-two of them, and you can't help breaking 'em if you try ever so much."
"What are they? what sorts of rules?" cried Katy and Clover in a breath.
"Oh! about being punctual to prayers, and turning your mattress, and smoothing over the undersheet before you leave your room, and never speaking a word in the hall, or in private study hour, and hanging your towel on your own nail in the wash-room, and all that."
"Wash-room? what do you mean?" said Katy, aghast.
"At the head of Quaker Row, you know. All the girls wash there, except on Saturdays, when they
