“I’M going to stop its raveling,” said Elsie serenely. “I’m going to overcast it, as mother does dress seams, and then line it with Margaret’s dress skirt; that is real strong, and will make it stand up beautifully.”

Sure enough, by dint of patient, painstaking effort, a circle of matting measuring nearly a yard around was cut off, the raw edges “overcast” with a large needle and strong linen thread, then the dress skirt was ripped and carefully smoothed. A journey to the kitchen, where Mrs. Hobbs, the woman who washed and ironed on the same day for this fallen family, was at work. Elsie hinted that it would save her time if Irma would see to the ironing, but at that moment Irma was in the depths of her book, and seemed to be deaf. Back again with her ironed skirt, the yard of matting was laid on the floor, the cloth spread over it and neatly tacked at sides and ends; then the long side seam was sewed, amid statements from Irma that it could not be done, because whose arms could be expected to reach down such a ridiculous cylinder as that to sew! It was hard work. Twice Elsie gave up with a sigh, and once was on the point of going to Margaret for advice, but the strong desire to do the work herself held her, and she actually did accomplish it! To stand the cylinder on one end, and draw with white chalk a “head” for it, and then another a trifle larger for a cover, was comparatively easy. These two were lined by cutting out a circle of cloth three inches larger than the matting circle, running a strong gathering string around the edge, and drawing it up around the matting.

“What is the use of that?” Irma demanded; and upon being informed that it was for strength and also to give something substantial to sew to, she said, with a little sniff, “Such a lot of trouble for what will only be an ugly bungle when you get it done.”

“It will be a bungle that will hold the clothes nicely,” Elsie said merrily.

She was so sure now of succeeding that she could afford to be merry.

The small patient fingers sewed away, and Irma, watching, grew interested in spite of herself. “You are not making a true round for the cover,” she presently exclaimed. “The thing wiggles in and out so, it is hard to make a true circle; you ought to cut a paper pattern first, and work at it until you get it true, then cut the matting by it. Here, I’ll make a pattern for you; and if I were you I would wire the creature around the top; that would make it stay in place.”

“That is an excellent idea,” Elsie said, “and I know just where there is a bit of wire that will do; I’ll run and get it.” She smothered a wee sigh as she went; it was a good plan to cut a pattern, and Irma’s eye for cutting was better than her own, but she had wanted to do this work entirely herself. The pattern was troublesome, but at last a fair circle was made, an edge of matting four inches deep sewed around it, the whole carefully lined, and the thing was done.

“It really looks very well,” Irma said, “and will do to stand in the back hall. That wire around the top was a good scheme.”

“Yes,” said Elsie heartily, “it was.”

Mrs. Harding gave no faint praise the next morning when the matting “hamper,” duly addressed and wrapped, stood close to her seat at table. She examined the workmanship most minutely, declared that the idea was original, and the completed work most useful.

“You have no idea how much more precious it is to me than anything bought with money could possibly be,” she said, kissing again the rosy cheeks of her youngest daughter, while the others looked on, smiling. Then truthful Elsie bethought herself. “Irma helped me,” she said quickly; “she made the circle true, and planned the wire for the top; it would not have been nearly so nice without her help.”

“I didn’t do the least thing, mother, except to cut a paper pattern for her, and to propose that some wire be sewed around the top. She had it nearly done before I said a word. It is all nonsense to say I helped. All I did was to give a little advice.”

The older daughters laughed merrily, for Irma was very fond of giving advice; but Mrs. Harding drew Irma to her side and kissed her lovingly, while she said: “There spoke my truthful girl. She is not going to be commended for what she has not done.”

“Oh! but, mother, she did truly help,” was Elsie’s eager explanation.

“Of course she did,” declared Margaret; “I have seen the time when I needed a little good advice more than any other kind of help.”

Pansy.