“Jane, what’s the chief end of man? Don’t know? Well, it’s the most astonishing thing that that Assembly’s Catechism don’t stay in your head any better! It seems to go into one ear and out of the other. Now pay particular attention while I tell you what the chief end of man is. The chief end of man is--is--well--I--why don’t you hold still?--you are always putting a body out! You had better run up stairs and get your book. Here, stop a minute, and let me tie your sash straight. Pink is very becoming to you, Jane; you inherit your mother’s blonde beauty. Come away from that glass, Jane, this minute; don’t you know it is wicked to look in the glass on Sunday? See if you can say your ‘creed’ that your Episcopal teacher wants you to learn. Come; ‘I believe’--(In less than one week your toes will be through those drab gaiters, Jane.) Goodness, if there isn’t the bell! Why didn’t you get your lesson Saturday evening? Oh! I recollect; you were at dancing school. Well--you needn’t say anything about that to your teacher; because--because there’s ‘a time to dance,’ and a time to go to meeting, and _now_ it is meeting time; so, come here, and let me roll that refractory ringlet over my finger once more, and then, do you walk _solemnly_ along to church, as a baptised child should. “Here! stop a bit!--you may wear this coral bracelet of mine, if you won’t lose it. There; now you look _most_ as pretty as your mother did, when she was your age. Don’t toss your head so, Jane; people will call you vain; and you know I have always told you that it makes very little difference how a little girl _looks_, if she is only a little Christian. There, good-bye;--repeat your catechism, going along; and don’t let the wind blow your hair out of curl.” SUNDAY NOON AT THE DIBDINS. (_Mr. Dibdin reading a pile of business letters, fresh from the post-office; Mrs. Dibdin, in a pearl-colored brocade and lace ruffles, devouring “Bleak House.”_) _Mrs. Dibdin._--“Jane, is it possible I see you on the holy Sabbath day, with Mother Goose’s Melodies? Put it away, this minute, and get your Bible. There’s the pretty story of Joseph building the ark, and Noah in the lion’s den, and Isaac killing his brother Cain, and all that.” _Jane._--“Well, but, mamma, you know I can’t spell the big words. Won’t you read it to me?” _Mrs. Dibdin._--“I am busy reading now, my dear; go and ask your papa.” _Jane._--“Please, papa, will you read to me in my little Bible? mamma is busy.” _Mr. Dibdin._--“My dear, will you be kind enough to pull that bell for Jane’s nursery maid?--she is getting troublesome.” * * * * * Exit Miss Jane to the nursery, to listen to Katy’s and her friend Bridget’s account of their successful flirtations with John O’Calligan and Michael O’Donahue. ITEMS OF TRAVEL.