Publisher's Synopsis
APER-WEIGHTS," observed Patty, sucking an injured thumb, "were evidently not made fordriving in tacks. I wish I had a hammer."This remark called forth no response, and Patty peered down from the top of the stepladder at her room-mate, who was sitting on the floor dragging sofa-pillows and curtainsfrom a dry-goods box."Priscilla," she begged, "you aren't doing anything useful. Go down and ask Peters for ahammer."Priscilla rose reluctantly. "I dare say fifty girls have already been after a hammer.""Oh, he has a private one in his back pocket. Borrow that. And, Pris,"-Patty called afterher over the transom, -"just tell him to send up a man to take that closet door off itshinges."Patty, in the interval, sat down on the top step and surveyed the chaos beneath her. AnOriental rush chair, very much out at the elbows, several miscellaneous chairs, two desks, adivan, a table, and two dry-goods boxes radiated from the center of the room. The floor, asit showed through the interstices, was covered with a grass-green carpet, while thecurtains and hangings were of a not very subdued crimson.
