"You refused in a manner which plainly enough snowed that you thought me a troublesome borrower. 'What's wanted now?' I think rather strange language to use to a domestic of mine." Really, thought I, this caps the climax. "To speak the plain truth, Mrs. Jordon," said I, "and not wishing to give any offence, you do use the privilege of a neighbor in this respect rather freely--more freely, I must own, than I feel justified in doing." "Mrs. Smith, this is too much!" exclaimed Mrs. Jordon. "Why you borrow of me twice where I borrow of you once. I am particularly careful in matters of this kind." I looked at the woman with amazement. "Borrow of you?" I asked. "Certainly!" she replied, with perfect coolness. "Scarcely a day passes that you do not send in for something or other. But dear knows! I have always felt pleasure in obliging you." I was mute for a time. "Really, Mrs. Jordon," said I, at length, as composedly as I could speak, "you seem to be laboring under some strange mistake. The charge of frequent borrowing, I imagine, lies all on the other side. I can name a dozen of my things in your house now, and can mention as many articles borrowed within the last three days." "Pray do so," was her cool reply. "You have my large wash-boiler," I replied, "and two of my washing tubs. You borrow them every Monday, and I have almost always to send for them." "I have your wash-boiler and tubs? You are in error, Mrs. Smith. I have a large boiler of my own, and plenty of tubs." "I don't know what you have, Mrs. Jordon; but I do know that you get mine every week. Excuse me for mentioning these things--I do so at your desire. Then, there is my coffee-mill, borrowed every morning." "Coffee-mill! Why should I borrow your coffee-mill? We have one of our own." "Yesterday you borrowed butter, and eggs, and sugar," I continued. "I?" my neighbor seemed perfectly amazed. "Yes; and the day before a loaf of bread--an egg to clear your coffee--salt, pepper, and a nutmeg." "Never!" "And to-day Nancy got some lard, a cup of coffee, and some Indian meal for a pudding." "She did?" asked Mrs. Jordon in a quick voice, a light seeming to have flashed upon her mind. "Yes," I replied, "for I was in the kitchen when she got the lard and meal, and Bridget mentioned the coffee as soon as I came down this morning." "Strange!" Mrs. Jordon looked thoughtful. "It isn't a week since we got coffee, and I am sure our Indian meal cannot be out." "Almost every week Nancy borrows a pound or a half pound of butter on the day before your butter man comes; and more than that, doesn't return it, or indeed anything she gets more than a third of the time." "Precisely the complaint I have to make against you," said Mrs. Jordon, looking me steadily in the face. "Then," said I "there is something wrong somewhere, for to my knowledge nothing has been borrowed from you or any body else for months. I forbid anything of the kind."