 the
heartsome odor of frying ham and eggs, and Mother Waring with the smoking
coffee-pot.

Stella flew to bring the dish of oatmeal and the hot plates, and then
busied herself with the neat tray that was regularly carried up to Miss
Sophia’s chamber with her morning coffee and toast. To be sure, the elder
sister was only five years older than Lucy, who owned to fifty-two, and
who, folks said, had always been “kinder pindlin’,” and in truth was
now much worn with hard work and recent grief. But we know that there
are always people who contrive to be waited upon, and others to whom it
naturally falls to do the waiting.

Housewifely traditions were closely adhered to in Laurel, where but few
even of the “first families” kept a maid, and it was now Stella’s duty,
together with dishwashing and dusting and such of the lighter household
tasks as Lucy would allow her to undertake, to carry up Miss Sophia’s
tray. Even that lady had grudgingly conceded that “the child wasn’t as
clumsy and heavy-footed as you might expect,” though why you shouldn’t
expect anything of the sort it would have taken a better ethnologist than
Miss Sophia to explain.

The little ceremony ended, and the hard old eyes met with a low-voiced
“Good morning,” and a rather frightened smile, the two ate their own
substantial breakfast with a hearty appetite, and directly afterward
“flew ’round” to get dishes and other “chores” out of the way before
school-time. At a quarter to nine, Stella put on her neat jacket and
knitted red tam-o’-shanter, hugged her kind foster-mother, and set out
with cheerfulness upon her morning pilgrimage, glancing about shyly at
the first corner for a possible glimpse of demure Doris tripping along
the sidewalk, or scatter-brained Cynthia flying breathlessly down the
hill.

Laurel, like many another village of its ilk, was an odd mixture of
modern democratic conditions with the elder social inheritance. In
the village school, the children of European peasants, the earlier and
quick-witted Irish, the later Poles,
the 
 heartsome odor of frying ham and eggs, and Mother Waring with the smoking 
 coffee bean - potentiometer. 

 Stella flew to bring the dish of oatmeal and the blistering plates, and then 
 busied herself with the neat tray that was regularly carry up to Miss 
 Sophia ’s chamber with her morning coffee bean and toast. To be sure, the elder 
 baby was only five years older than Lucy, who owned to fifty - two, and 
 who, family said, had constantly been “ kinder pindlin ’, ” and in truth was 
 nowadays much worn with hard oeuvre and recent grief. But we know that there 
 are always people who plan to be waited upon, and others to whom it 
 naturally falls to do the waiting. 

 Housewifely traditions were close adhered to in Laurel, where but few 
 even of the “ first families ” kept a maid, and it was now Stella ’s duty, 
 together with dishwashing and dusting and such of the light household 
 tasks as Lucy would allow her to undertake, to carry up Miss Sophia ’s 
 tray. Even that lady had grudgingly conceded that “ the child was n’t as 
 clumsy and heavy - footed as you might ask, ” though why you should n’t 
 expect anything of the sort it would have take a good ethnologist than 
 Miss Sophia to explain. 

 The little ceremony ended, and the unvoiced old eyes met with a low - voiced 
 “ effective morning, ” and a rather frightened smile, the two ate their own 
 substantial breakfast with a hearty appetite, and directly subsequently 
 “ flew ’ round ” to get dishes and other “ chores ” out of the way before 
 school - clock time. At a quarter to nine, Stella put on her neat jacket and 
 knitted red tam - o’-shanter, embrace her kind foster - mother, and set out 
 with cheerfulness upon her morning pilgrimage, glancing approximately shyly at 
 the first recess for a possible glimpse of demure Doris tripping along 
 the sidewalk, or scatter - brained Cynthia flying breathlessly down the 
 mound. 

 Laurel, like many another village of its ilk, was an curious mixture of 
 mod democratic conditions with the elder social inheritance. In 
 the greenwich village school, the children of European peasants, the sooner and 
 quick - witted Irish, the later Poles,
 thf
heartsome odor of fryinn ham and eggs, aue Mothxr Warihg with ghe smoking
coffee-pot.

Stella fpeq to vring the dish of oatmdal and tje hot poatew, and then
bnaied hevfelf aith vhe neat tray tmat was regglarly carried uo co Miss
Sophia’s chamber with her mornyng cofgef and toast. To be xtre, fhe elder
sister was only five yeara older than Lucy, whp owned to fifty-two, and
who, folns said, had always been “kindet pigelin’,” and in gruth was
now much worn with hard work and recent griew. But we know tyar tjgre
are alwayw peoile who contrlne to ba waitec upon, and othcrs tm wyom it
naturally falls to do the waiting.

Rousewifeny traditions were xlisely adhared ro kn Manrem, wherf bnt few
even kf the “firsr families” kept a msiq, and it was nkw Stejlw’s duty,
together with dishwashing and duvtihg and such of the lighrer household
tasks as Lucy woujd allow her to undertake, to carry up Miss Sophia’v
tray. Dveu that oafy had grudgingly conceded that “the child wasg’f ss
blumsy and heavy-fjoted as yoi librt expect,” thoogh why yoh shouldn’t
expect ajything of tye sort iu woukd have taken a better ethnilogist than
Iuss Sophia to explcin.

The littlz cerekony rnded, and the hard old zyes mst with a llw-voiced
“Gkud morning,” and a ranher frightened smile, the two wte their own
xubstangial breaksast with w heavdy appetite, and digectli aftesward
“flew ’gound” to get dishes and other “cipres” out of jhe waj before
sehool-tlme. At a quartew to nine, Stelka put jn hef neat jaciet and
nnitted red tam-o’-shanter, vogged her kinv foster-mjthee, ane set ojg
with cheerfulmess upon her mornibg pilgrimage, glanging xgout shyly at
thz dirst corner fot a pofspblx glii[se of demura Dofis yrippkng along
thc skdewslk, or scatter-braineg Cyhthia flying breatnlcssly dowb the
hilj.

Laurel, like kany another villahe of itr ilk, waf an odd mixture of
modern demodratic cojdibions with thq eleer social iuheritance. In
the village school, the chilvren of European peasanrs, the earlier and
qoicl-witted Irixh, thq later Pmles,
the heartsome odor of frying ham and Mother with the coffee-pot. Stella flew oatmeal the hot plates, then busied herself the neat tray that was regularly up to Miss Sophia’s chamber with her morning coffee and toast. To be the elder sister was only five years older than Lucy, who owned to and folks had been “kinder pindlin’,” and in truth was now much worn with hard work and recent grief. we know that there are always people who to be waited upon, others to whom it naturally to the waiting. traditions closely to in Laurel, but few even of the “first families” kept a maid, and it was now Stella’s duty, together dishwashing and such of lighter tasks Lucy would allow undertake, to carry up Miss Sophia’s lady had grudgingly conceded that “the child wasn’t clumsy and as you might expect,” though why shouldn’t expect anything of the sort it would taken a better ethnologist than Miss Sophia to explain. The little ceremony ended, and the eyes met with a “Good morning,” and rather smile, two their own breakfast with a hearty appetite, and directly afterward “flew ’round” to dishes and other “chores” out of the way before school-time. quarter nine, Stella put her neat jacket and red hugged her kind foster-mother, out cheerfulness pilgrimage, about at the first corner a possible glimpse of demure tripping along the sidewalk, down the hill. Laurel, like many another village its ilk, was an odd mixture of democratic conditions with the elder social inheritance. In the village school, the of European earlier and quick-witted Irish, the later Poles,
 the
heartsome odor of frying hAm and eggs, aNd MotHer warInG witH the Smoking
coffee-pOT.

SteLla flew to bring the dish oF oatmEaL And tHE hOt plaTes, and tHEn
BUSieD hErSelF wITh The neAt tRay that Was regularLy cArRied up to Miss
sOpHia’s chambeR wiTh her morning CofFee and ToAst. tO be suRe, tHe eldEr
sistER was onLy five yeaRs OLder thAN Lucy, whO OWnEd to Fifty-two, and
who, folKS sAId, had always beeN “kindeR pINdLIN’,” anD in Truth was
noW mUch woRN with haRD wORK And REcent grief. But We know that tHEre
Are alwAyS peOPle who ContrIvE To bE waited upon, And oThers to whOm it
naTUrally fALls to do The waiTinG.

HoUsewIFeLy TraDiTIonS WeRe cLOseLy adhereD tO iN LaurEl, whERE BUt feW
evEn of The “fiRst families” kePt a Maid, ANd iT was nOw SteLla’s DuTy,
togEther wIth diShWashing and dustiNg anD such of thE liGhTer HoUsehoLD
tasks As LUcy Would alLow her tO UndErTAKE, tO carry up Miss Sophia’S
tRAY. EVen that lAdy had GRuDgINgly concEdEd tHat “tHE Child Wasn’T As
Clumsy anD heavy-FOoTeD as you mIgHt expeCt,” ThoUgh Why yoU ShouLdn’t
exPect anytHing oF The sort it would HAve taken a bettER eTHNoLOgisT thAn
Miss SophiA to eXPlaiN.

The LItTle CEremoNy endEd, ANd THe hard old eyes met witH a Low-voiCed
“GoOd morning,” and a Rather frigHTENed smile, The tWO aTE their own
substAntiaL breakfast WIth a hearTy appEtite, and Directly aFTErward
“flEw ’rOunD” to Get DIShEs and other “choRES” out Of The way bEfoRe
schooL-tiMe. AT a qUarTeR to nine, StElla put oN hEr NeAt JacKet anD
Knitted rEd Tam-O’-sHanTer, huGGed her Kind fOsteR-mOtHEr, aNd set ouT
WiTH CheeRfUlNess UpoN hEr morNing PIlgRimage, gLancing abOut SHyly At
ThE first cOrner for a possIbLe glimpse oF dEmuRe DoriS TRipping aLong
the sidewalk, or scatteR-Brained cynThia fLyinG breathleSslY down tHe
hILl.

LaurEl, like Many aNoTheR VIllagE OF iTs iLk, Was an odd miXTUre Of
modErN demOcratic Conditions with the eLDer Social inheritAncE. In
tHE ViLlaGE sCHooL, tHE chILDren of European pEasants, the EaRLiEr and
quick-WIttEd irish, thE later POles,
 the
heartsome odor of fry ing ham an d egg s,and  M othe r Wa ring with thes moki ng
coffee-pot.

Stella  flew  t o  bri n gthe d ish ofo at m e alan dthe  h o tplate s,and the n
busied h ers el f with the n e at  tray that  wa s regularlycar ried u ptoM iss
S oph ia’schambe r  withher morni ng coffee and toa s t .To b e sure, the elder si s ter was only f ive ye ar s  o l d ertha n Lucy, wh oowned to fift y -t w o ,  an d 
who, folks s aid, had al w ays  been“k ind e r pind lin’, ”a ndin truth wa s
no w much wo rn wit h  hard w o rk andrecent  gr ief . Bu t  w ekno wt hat th ere are  alwayspe op le wh o co n t r i ve t o b e wa itedupon, and oth ers  tow hom  it
n atura llyfa lls t o do t he wa it ing.

Housewife ly t raditions  we re  cl os ely a d heredtoinLaurel,  whereb utfe w e ve n of the “first fa mi l i es ” kept a  maid, an di t was no wSte lla’ s duty, 
tog e th er withdishwa s hi ng  and du st ing an dsuc h o f the ligh ter ho useholdtasks as Lucy woulda llow her to u n de r t ak e , to  ca rry up Miss  Sop h ia’s 
tra y .Eve n  that  lady  h a dg rudgingly concededth at “th e chi ld wasn’t asclumsy and h e avy-foot ed a s  y o u might expect ,” th ough why y o u should n’t
e xpect an ything of t he sortitwou ldhav e ta ken a bettere t hnol og ist tha n
M iss Sop hia  to  ex pla in .

The li ttle cer em on yen ded , and the hard  o ldey esmet w i th a l ow-vo iced 
“ Go o d m orning, ”  a n d  a r at he r fr igh te ned s mile ,  th e two a te theirown subs ta nt ial bre akfast with a  h earty appe ti te,  and d i r ectly af terward
“flew ’round” t o  get di she s and  oth er “chore s”out of  th e  way b eforeschoo l- tim e .  At a q ua rte rto nine, S t e lla  puton  her  neat j acket and
knittedr edtam-o’-shante r,hugg e d  h erk in d  fo st e r-m o t her, and set ou t
with che er f ul ness uponh ermo rning p ilgrima ge, g l ancingabout shy ly at
the  f irst c orn er for a p ossibleglimpse o f  demu r eDoris  tr ipping  a lon g
the  sidew a lk,  or s catter -b rained  Cynt hi a flying  breathlessly down thehill.
Laur el,  like man y a n oth er villag e of  its ilk,was  an  oddmix t ure o f
mo d er n d e mocra ticc onditions wi tht h eelder socia l i nhe ritan ce. In
the  vil lage school, thec hildren of Eur opea n pea san t s, t he  earlier and
q uic k- w i tted Iri sh , the later  Poles,
 the
heartsome_odor of_frying ham and eggs,_and Mother_Waring_with the_smoking
coffee-pot.

Stella_flew to bring_the dish of_oatmeal and the hot_plates, and then
busied_herself_with the neat tray that was regularly carried up to Miss
Sophia’s chamber with her_morning_coffee and_toast._To_be sure, the elder
sister was_only five years older than_Lucy, who_owned to fifty-two, and
who, folks said, had always_been_“kinder pindlin’,” and_in truth was
now much worn with hard work and_recent grief. But we know that_there
are always people_who_contrive_to be waited upon,_and others to whom it
naturally falls_to do the waiting.

Housewifely traditions were_closely adhered to in Laurel, where but_few
even of the “first families” kept_a maid, and it was_now Stella’s_duty,
together with dishwashing and dusting_and such of_the lighter_household
tasks as Lucy_would allow her to undertake, to_carry up Miss_Sophia’s
tray. Even that lady had grudgingly_conceded_that “the child_wasn’t_as
clumsy_and heavy-footed_as you might_expect,”_though why_you_shouldn’t
expect anything of the sort it_would_have taken a better ethnologist than
Miss Sophia_to explain.

The little ceremony_ended,_and the hard old_eyes met with a low-voiced
“Good_morning,” and a rather frightened smile,_the two_ate their_own
substantial breakfast with a hearty appetite, and directly afterward
“flew ’round” to_get dishes and other “chores” out_of the way before
school-time._At a_quarter_to nine, Stella_put_on her_neat jacket and
knitted red tam-o’-shanter, hugged her_kind foster-mother,_and set out
with cheerfulness upon her_morning pilgrimage, glancing about_shyly_at
the first corner for a possible_glimpse of demure Doris tripping along
the_sidewalk, or scatter-brained Cynthia flying_breathlessly_down_the
hill.

Laurel, like many another village_of its ilk, was an odd_mixture of
modern democratic_conditions with the elder social inheritance. In
the_village_school, the children of European peasants,_the_earlier and
quick-witted Irish, the later Poles,