"Wal, yes," said he of the broad collar; "I've got a darter'd be glad to go; but she ain't to home. She went to work to the Falls last week, but she ain't a gwine to stay but three or four weeks. If she was to home, she'd be glad to go." "Do you know of any others who go out?" said Mrs. Harding, who thought there was but little prospect of getting his daughter Sally. "Not as I knows on," said Mr. of the broad collar. "You couldn't wait three or four weeks, I s'pose." "No," was the reply; and she laid her hand upon Walter's arm, as a signal to drive on. "We came pretty near getting a girl that time," said Walter, laughing. "Quite as near as was best for us. It is well that Sally is gone, I dare say," replied his mother, with a smile. Patient toiling brought them at last up a long, rugged hill, upon the other side of which spread out Seccombe Plains. "Here is a house; shall we inquire here?" said Walter, pointing to a rude little house or hovel which stood upon the hill-top, upon a level spot which was covered with large granite boulders and unsightly brush. "Yes," said his mother, as she espied a man coming round the corner of the house. "It can do no harm to inquire." "Can you tell me of any girls in the vicinity who go out to work?" sang out Mrs. Harding to the slovenly-looking man, who had no idea of drawing nearer. "What? I didn't hear." The question was repeated, and the sound of a stranger's voice brought three or four barefooted, uncombed juveniles to the door, and the mother's head to the window. "Can you tell this woman where she can find a gal to do housework?" said the man, addressing his better half. "Why, yes; there's gals enough, but I can't seem to think on 'em," said the woman, with a perplexed look. "P'raps she could get one of Smithson's gals. He has got two that go out to work." "Would they make good help?" asked Mrs. Harding. "Fust rate. One on 'em worked for me a spell last winter, and she did well." Mrs. Harding thought that was no great recommendation; but she simply thanked her, and asked if she could tell of any others. "Wal, I don't think of any; but there's enough on 'em a leetle farther on, at Mapleton." "How far is that?" "Six miles beyond the Plains." Mrs. Harding thanked her informer, and they drove on down the long steep hill, at the foot of which lay the insignificant village of Seccombe Plains. "We have heard of one girl, mother," said Walter, looking very bright. "Perhaps she will be just the one for us." "Perhaps so," said Mrs. Harding, doubtfully. "We shall feel pretty grand if we can carry back a good girl." Mrs. Harding laughed, and said something about "counting chickens before they were hatched;" but just then they found themselves at the foot of the long hill, and directly opposite a low farm-house, the mistress of which was out, broom in hand, sweeping the little footpath which led to the road. Mrs. Harding inquired if she knew of any girls for housework.