Gypsy Breynton

er supper; "I can't possibly help

y a suitable and praiseworthy condition of things that you should keep your room looking as I would be

a blush, "you always stop me right off with that, on every

e applies her principles to things terrestrial as well as t

without the least idea w

g darn in Gypsy's dress, "I think people who give right up at li

know th

ha

war

act

r back half turned, her eyes fixed on the carpet, as if she were puzzli

ndow and think of it," remarked

stairs and shut her door, and, what was remarkable, nobody saw anything more of her. What was stil

about such a state of continual astonishment over the little nut-brown romp that had been making such commotion in his quiet home

he cries four times a year. That's the best part of Gyp.; with

that there were always, at least, half a dozen buttons off from his jacket, at all times and places, though his long-suffering mother lived in her work-basket. A third, lay in the fact that he never walked. He trotted, he cantered, he galloped; he progressed in jerks, in jumps, in somersets; he crawled up-stairs like a little Scotch plaid spider, on "all fours;" he came down stairs on the banisters, the balance of power lying between his steel buttons and the smooth varnish of the mahogany. On several memorable occasions, he has narrowly escaped pitching head first into the hall lamp. His favorite method of locomotion, however, consisted in a series of thumps, beginning with a gentle tread, and increasing in impetu

over hand, and stamped across the upper entry, and pounded on Gypsy's door

Winn

her wants t

what you

it a little box (without a cover, like all Gypsy's boxes) filled with beadwork,-collars, cuffs, nets, and bracelets, all tumbled in together, and as much as a handful of loose beads of every size, color, and description, thrown down on the bottom. Gypsy

and gold, that was rolling away under the bed and the chair and the table, her face a perfect l

ut a pleasant joke. But he knew, from Gypsy's face, it was no joke; and, feeling his dignity insulted, down

an up-stairs in

he matter

d me-the old thin

them all to pick up just as I was trying to put my

id Mrs. Breynton, "you must learn to

e banisters, and Mrs.

ou trying t

y room," s

t to do with stri

to fix it up, and my beads were all in a muss, an

x of beads," said Mrs. Breynton, with a smile that was half amused, half sorrow

h as could be, but that everlasting Tom had to go and-- Oh dear! did you ever see anything so f

ypsy," said Mrs. Breynton, lookin

o rights, and then I was going to live like other people, and keep my stockings darned, and-

igns of a lady to keep one's room in

lling you that I guessed God made a mistake when he made me, and put in some ginger-beer somehow,

mer it in. Pick up the beads, and tear down the image, and go to work with a li

e shut the door, "that it w

Gypsy, demurely. "No, not at al

ood sense to think her mother was just right about it. It was not want of training, that gave Gypsy her careless fashion of looking after things. Mrs. Breynton was a wise, as well as a loving mother, and had done everything in the way of punishment, reproof, warning, persuasion, and argument, that mothers can do for the faults of children. Nor was it for want of a good example, Mrs. Breynton was the very pink of neatness. It was a natural kink in Gypsy, that was as hard to get out as a knot in an apple-tree, and which depended entirely on the child's own will for its eradication. This disorder in her room and about her toilet wa

rovided he knew her) was not to be found in Yorkbury. Whether there wa

en she attacked Tom's image. It took her fully fifteen minutes merely to get the thing to pieces, for the true boy-fashion in which it was tied, pinned, se

d stockings she tumbled into her basket, then went back and folded them up neatly; she also made a journey into the woodshed expressly to put the hatchet where it belonged, on the chopping-block. By this time it was quite dark, but she lighted a lamp, and went at it afresh. Winnie

ere questions that might well puzzle a more systematic mind than Gypsy's. However, in due time, the room was restored to an order that was delightful to see,-for, if Gypsy made up her mind to a thing, she could do it thoroughly and skilfully,-and she returned to the bureau drawer. This drawer was a fair specimen of the rest of Gypsy's drawers, shelves, and cupboards, and their name was Legion. Moreover, it was an "upper drawer," and where is the girl that does not know what a delicate science is involv

per place, the worst looking upper drawer that your horrified eyes

leeves, collars,-both clean and soiled,-laces and ribbons, and bows and nets; purses and old gloves, a piece of soap, a pile of letters, scratche

en she just turned the whole thing bottom upwards in a great heap on

heard a little scream. Winnie stam

marble covers I lost ever-ever so long ago, and had to ge

her little scream, and Gyp

? I've found that dollar bill of

ream, a pretty loud one this time. Mrs.

faintly; "there was a great he

en gl

ow it came there; I guess I w

no more than fairly seated before there came from up-stairs, n

now?" called To

ife we scolded Patty for losing last winter, and-Oh, Tom, just look here!-my stick o

through the same process, as well as wardrobe shelves innumerable. Gypsy, with her characteristic impulsiveness, would have

d drawn a long breath and stood up to look, with grea

, what a jewel you are w

m. Have you jus

dedly in the rough, as a general thing

is nice to have things somewhere where you won't trip over them when yo

will last?" asked Tom, with

solemnly; "that's a

you have a mind to have it

n I shall be in a hurry to go to dinner; then I shall be in a terrible hurry to get off with Sarah Rowe, and so it goes. However, I'll see. I

nd of her life, I am afraid. But she seemed to have taken a little gasp of order, an