A jet of gas came sputtering out of the coals and smoked it black. We dared not ask Sally for another, for we knew she'd refuse it, So we had to clean this one with sand and brown-paper before we could use it. It was very hard work, but I rubbed till I made it shine; Yet as soon as it got on a damped "fine thing" it left a brown line. I rubbed it for a long, long time before it would iron without a mark, But it did at last, and we finished our Dolls' Wash just before dark. * * * * * Sally's very kind, for she praised our wash, and she has taken away Victoria's dress to do it again; and I really must say She was right when she said, "You see, young ladies, a week's wash isn't all play." Our backs ache, our faces are red, our hands are all wrinkled, and we've rubbed our fingers quite sore; We feel very sorry for Sally every week, and we don't mean to dirty our dresses so much any more. [Illustration] HOUSE-BUILDING AND REPAIRS. Father is building a new house, but I've had one given to me for my own; Brick red, with a white window, and black where it ought to be glass, and the chimney yellow, like stone. Brother Bill made me the shelves with his tool-box, and the table I had before, and the pestle-and-mortar; And Mother gave me the jam-pot when it was empty; it's rather big, but it's the only pot we have that will really hold water. We--that is I and Jemima, my doll. (For it's a Doll's House, you know, Though some of the things are real, like the nutmeg-grater, but not the wooden plates that stand in a row. _They_ came out of a box of toy tea-things, and I can't think what became of the others; But one never can tell what becomes of anything when one has brothers.) Jemima is much smaller than I am, and, being made of wood, she is thin; She takes up too much room inside, but she can lie outside on the roof without breaking it in. I wish I had a drawing-room to put her in when I want to really cook; I have to have the kitchen-table outside as it is, and the pestle-and-mortar is rather too heavy for it, and everybody can look. There's no front door to the house, because there's no front to have a door in, and beside, If there were, I couldn't play with anything, for I shouldn't know how to get inside. I never heard of a house with only one room, except the cobbler's, and his was a stall. I don't quite know what that is; but it isn't a house, and it served him for parlour and kitchen and all. Father says that whilst he is about it, he thinks he shall add on a wing; And brother Bill says he'll nail my Doll's House on the top of an