"But," said Peggy, "I want to look proper 'm; I don't want to look like a Noah's Ark servant. Mrs. Jones says girls must make the most o' theirselves. And a fringe makes a cap look first class!" "You try my way first. I know good service, and 'tis the best servant-maids wear the plainest heads." So reluctantly Peggy gave up all idea of a fringe. She appeared in Nelson Street one morning and spoke to her red-haired friend. "I'm ready for my place," she said, with much pride. "No. 9 is wantin' a general," said Eliza. "Who lives there?" "A widder and six children." "Oh my! I couldn't do for 'em. What does a general do, Liza?" "Most everythink—washin' and cleanin', and cookin', and twenty other things besides." Peggy gave a little shake of her head. "I don't think I'll go to No. 9. I should like to live in a bigger street than this. I'm on the look-out for a house with a garding!" "Why don't yer go to a Registry?" suggested Eliza. "That's where I should go, only uncle were so wild for me to come 'ere." "What's a Registry?" asked Peggy. "'Tis where they marries folks, ain't it?" "No, silly! Yer puts your name down, and what yer can do, and then when a lady comes along, they giv' yer name to her, and she sees yer, and if she likes yer she takes yer." Peggy's eyes shone. "That's first-rate. I'll go this afternoon, and I'll put on my best black. Where is there one?" "The girl at No. 14 who's just come, tells me there's one in Friars Street, No. 54." Peggy repeated this to herself, and walked home radiant. She did not tell Mrs. Croak of her intention, for she had a fear that she might stop her. In this conjecture she was right. Mrs. Creak was old-fashioned, and did not think much of Registries. She had told Peggy she had mentioned her to the Bible-woman and to the district visitor, and they had both promised to look-out for a place for her. But Peggy found waiting was a trial, and so she took her future into her own hands, and when she was arrayed in her black frock and hat, she informed Mrs. Jones that she was going out to look for a place. "Good luck go with you!" said that good-natured woman. "And mind you say you can mind babies well, Peg. I'll speak for you there, for you've minded h'Arthur h'off and h'on since he cut his first tooth!" Peggy marched away. She looked at her reflected figure in the shop windows with great satisfaction. "You look grand, Peggy!" she ejaculated. "Fit to be in a real good place, and you see you get it, that's all!" She found the Registry. It was a Berlin Wool shop, and a large card printed in the window stated that it was a "Servants' Registry." She went boldly in, and addressed a stern looking-woman behind the counter. "Please 'm, I've come to look for a place." "What kind of place?" demanded the woman. "Have you ever been out before?" "No," said Peggy importantly. "This is my first place, so I'm very partic'lar about it." "And what can you do?"