"The what?" asked Helen, tugging at the handle, which she turned with
difficulty. Her hands, unaccustomed to work of any kind, held it
awkwardly; while May, with her hands in the dough, which she worked
vigorously, laughed outright at her fruitless efforts.

"It's no use, May," at last she broke out, "I can't do it; and I've a
mind to throw the thing out of the window and run away."

"Where, dear Helen?"

"I don't know. I will hire out as lady's-maid, companion,
governess--any thing is preferable to this sort of life!" she
exclaimed, flushing up.

"You would find greater difficulties than a harmless coffee-mill to
contend with, I imagine!" said May, quietly, while she shaped her
rolls, and placed them in a pan.

"What _shall_ I do?" cried Helen, in a tone of despair, after another
fruitless effort.

"Grind the coffee. Come, you are quite strong enough; put it on the
table, here--steady it with one hand, and turn with the other--so; now
it goes," said May, pleasantly.

"How ridiculous! what now?" said Helen, laughing.

"The second stage!" replied May, looking mysterious; "pull out that
little drawer, and empty the powder you will find in it into the
coffee-pot, which I have just scalded--that is it; now pour on a little