Eva jumped up with a fierce gesture, ran to the stove, and crammed the paper in. "There!" said she; "I wish I could serve all the papers in the country the same way. I do, and I'd like to put all the editors in after 'em. I'd like to put 'em in the stove with their own papers for kindlin's." Suddenly Eva turned with a swish of skirts, and was out of the room and pounding up-stairs, shaking the little house with every step. When she returned she bore over her arm her best dress--a cherished blue silk, ornate with ribbons and cheap lace. "Where's that pattern?" she asked her sister. "She wouldn't ever do such a thing," moaned Fanny. "Where's that pattern?" "What pattern?" Fanny said, faintly. "That little dress pattern. Her little dress pattern, the one you cut over my dress for her by." "In the bureau drawer in my room. Oh, she wouldn't." Eva went into the bedroom, returned with the pattern, got the scissors from Fanny's work-basket, and threw her best silk dress in a rustling heap upon the table. Fanny stopped moaning and looked at her with wretched wonder. "What be you goin' to do?" "Do?" cried Eva, fiercely--"do? I'm goin' to cut this dress over for her." "You ain't." "Yes, I be. If I drove her away from home, scoldin' because you cut over that other old thing of mine for her, I'm goin' to make up for it now. I'm goin' to give her my best blue silk, that I paid a dollar and a half a yard for, and 'ain't worn three times. Yes, I be. She's goin' to have a dress cut out of it, an' she's comin' back to wear it, too. You'll see she is comin' home to wear it." Eva cut wildly into the silk with mad slashes of her gleaming shears, while two neighboring women, who had just come into the room, stared aghast, and even Fanny was partly diverted from her sorrow. "She's crazy," whispered one of the women, backing away as she spoke. "Oh, Eva, don't; don't do so," pleaded Fanny, tremulously. "I be," said Eva, and she cut recklessly up the front breadth. "You ain't cutting it right," said the other neighbor, who was skilful in such matters, and never fully moved from her own household grooves by any excitement. "If you are a-goin' to cut it at all, you had better cut it right." "I don't care how I cut it," returned Eva, thrusting the woman away. "Oh, I don't care how I cut it; I want to waste it. I will waste it."