Never mind! A great many people keep the _first_ floor spick and span; mayhap you'll find something wrong _up_ stairs. Walk in; 'tis the "best chamber." A gilt arrow is fastened to the wall, and pretty white lace curtains are thrown (tent fashion) over it; there is a snow-white quilt and a pair of plump, tempting pillows; the furniture and carpet are of a light cream color; and there is a vase of honeysuckle on the little light-stand. Nothing could be more faultless, you see. Now, step into the nursery; the floor is strewed with play-things; thank God, there's a child in the house! There is a broken doll; a torn picture-book; a little wreath of oak leaves; a dandelion chain; some willow tassels; a few acorns; a little red shoe, full of parti-colored pebbles; the wing of a little blue-bird; two little, speckled eggs, on a tuft of moss; and a little orphan chicken, nestling in a basket of cotton wool, in the corner. Then, there is a work-basket of Ruth's with a little dress of Daisy's, partly finished, and a dicky of Harry's, with the needle still sticking in it, which the little gypsey wife intends finishing when she comes back from her wood ramble. The old lady begins to think she must give it up; when, luckily, her eye falls on a crouching "Venus," in the corner. Saints and angels! why, she has never been to the dress-makers! There's a text, now! What a pity there is no appreciative audience to see the glow of indignation with which those half averted eyes regard the undraped goddess! "Oh, Harry! is this the end of all my teachings? Well, it is all _Ruth's_ doings--_all_ Ruth's doings. Harry is to be pitied, not blamed;" and the old lady takes up, at length, her _triumphant_ march for home. CHAPTER XV. "Hallo! what are you doing there?" exclaimed the doctor, looking over the fence at a laborer, at work in one of Harry's fields. "Ploughing this bit o' ground, sir. Mr. Hall told me to be sure and get it finished before he came home from the city this afthernoon." "Nonsense!" replied the doctor, "I was born sometime before my son Harry; put up your plough, and lay that bit of stone wall yonder; that needs to be done first." "I'm thinking Masther Hall won't be afther liking it if I do, sir," said Pat; "I had my orders for the day's work before masther went to the city, sir, this morning." "Pooh, pooh," said the old man, unchaining the horse from the plough, and turning him loose in the pasture; "young folks _think_ old folks are fools; old folks _know_ young folks to be so." Pat eyed the doctor, scratched his head, and began slowly to lay the stone wall. "What's _that_ fellow doing over yonder?" said the doctor to Pat. "Planting corn, yer honor." "Corn? ha! ha! city farming! Good. Corn? That's just the spot for potatoes. H-a-l-l-o there! Don't plant any more corn in that spot, John; it never'll come to anything--never." "But, Mr. Hall?" said John, hesitatingly, leaning on his hoe-handle.