one chances to say. Although my amount is small, yet I have quite a
little way of fixing myself, and always looking real nice. Aunt Patsey
says I do pretty well, until I open my big mouth and begin to rattle,
rattle, rattle! She says I talk more and say less than any body she has
ever known, except that down-East girl, Polly Blanton, who always
told--when in want of any other topic--the _family secrets_. Aunt
Patsey is forever-and-a-day preaching to me about _good form_; what
I ought, and what I ought not to do; sometimes repeats long passages
from the prayer-book--nearly all the morning service--then says, "It's
no use, no use; just like pouring water on a duck's back!" But she must
love to do useless things, for she just keeps right on. She says that
I ought to be able to keep silent once in a while, anyhow; but I don't
know _how_ to keep silent.

Some body had to come and tell her--Aunt Patsey--that I talked a great
deal, and very loud, at the theater, between acts. Now the idea of
finding fault with girls, or any body, who talk _between acts!_ Why
it's just perfectly delightful! I begin the moment the curtain drops;
I don't even wait for the music to begin--it is such a waste of time!
I know that I do talk a little too loud; but just lots of real nice
persons talk real loud at the theater--it comes natural. When people
turn around and look at me as if I was really doing something dreadful,
then I talk ever and ever so much more! People can't frown _me_
down--no indeed, double deed, not if Alice Wing knows any thing about
herself! People who know me never try; except my family, headed by Aunt
Patsey, who always says, "We are prompted by a deep sense of duty, my
dear, _duty_!"

I am _almost engaged_! Even Aunt Patsey likes the man, and O,
so do I! He is nice and quiet, and just loves to hear me talk--never