"'How slowly,' said Myra, 'you do get along. It is one o'clock, and
you have not finished yet.'
"'I cannot work fast, Myra, and neatly too; my hands are not so
delicate and nimble as yours,' and smiling a little, she added: 'Such
swelled clumsy things, I cannot get over the ground nimbly and well at
the same time. You, are a fine race horse, and I a drudging pony. But
I shall soon be through.'
"Myra once more uttered a sigh and cried:
"'Oh, my feet are dreadful cold.'
"'Take this bit of flannel,' said Lettice, 'and let me wrap them up.'
"'Nay, you will want it,' she replied.
"'Oh, I have only five minutes to sit up, and I can wrap this piece of
carpet round mine,' said Lettice.
"And she laid down her work and went to the bed and wrapped her
sister's icy feet in the flannel, and then sat down and finished her
task. How glad was Lettice to creep to the mattress and to lay her
aching limbs upon it. A hard bed and scanty covering in a cold night
are keenly felt. She soon fell asleep, while her sister tossed and
murmured on account of the cold.
"Lettice awoke and drew her over little pillow from under her head,
and put it under her sister's and tried every way to make her sister
comfortable, and she partly succeeded; and at last Myra, the delicate
suffering creature, fell asleep, and Lettice slumbered like a child.
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