Excerpt: ""Good-evening, Mrs. Hardy," said a pleasant voice, as the speaker tapped with her hand upon the half-open door of Mrs. Hardy''s cottage. Mrs. Hardy was a washerwoman, and her visitor knew that sometimes there was but scant room in her kitchen for strangers; indeed, she often wondered how the children managed on a wet day, and how the little ones escaped scalds and burns. However, this being Friday evening, the actual work was over, and the big deal table was piled with heaps of snowy linen, which Mrs. Hardy and her daughter Martha were sorting out and packing in nice large baskets, ready to be carried home the next day. "Oh, come in, Mrs. Eyre; you needn''t be afraid of the wash-tubs or the hot irons to-day. We''ve finished everything, ma''am." "And such lots of things," said Mrs. Eyre, as she took the seat offered her by Martha. "I am sure I don''t know how you get through it all, Mrs. Hardy.""
