Well,--"the kettle began it." Mrs. Peerybingle--pretty much--finished it. That is, the story began itself, then Ruth discovered that it was beginning, and began, first, to put it down. Then Ruth grew busy, and she wouldn't always have told quite enough of the Ruthy part; and Mrs. Holabird got hold of it, as she gets hold of everything, and she would not let it suffer a "solution of continuity." Then, partly, she observed; and partly we told tales, and recollected and reminded; and partly, here and there, we rushed in,--especially I, Barbara,--and did little bits ourselves; and so it came to be a "Song o' Sixpence," and at least four Holabirds were "singing in the pie." Do you think it is--sarcastically--a "pretty dish to set before the king"? Have we shown up our friends and neighbors too plainly? There is one comfort; nobody knows exactly where "Z----" is; and there are friends and neighbors everywhere. I am sure nobody can complain, if I don't. This last part--the Barbarous part--is a continual breach of confidence. I have a great mind, now, not to respect anything myself; not even that cadet button, made into a pin, which Ruth wears so shyly. To be sure, Mrs. Hautayne has one too; she and Ruth are the only two girls whom Dakie Thayne considers _worth_ a button; but Leslie is an old, old friend; older than Dakie in years, so that it could never have been like Ruth with her; and she never was a bit shy about it either. Besides-- Well, you cannot have any more than there is. The story is told as far as we--or anybody--has gone. You must let the world go round the sun again, a time or two; everything has not come to pass yet--even with "We Girls." THE END. End of Project Gutenberg's We Girls: A Home Story, by Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney