The First Wednesday in every month was a Perfectly Awful Day. It was a day that one waited for with fear, tried to get through with courage, and forgot as soon as possible. Every floor must be perfectly clean, every chair free of dust, and every bed without a wrinkle. Ninety-seven little orphans must be washed and dressed in their best clothes. All ninety-seven must be reminded of their manners, and told to say, "Yes, sir, "No, sir, whenever a Trustee spoke. It was a difficult time, and poor Jerusha Abbott, being the oldest orphan, had to bear the worst of k. But this particular first Wednesday, like the others before it, finally came to an end. Jerusha left the kitchen where she had been making sandwiches for the guests, and went upstairs to finish her regular work. Her special care was room F, where eleven little children, from four to seven years old, had their eleven little beds all in a row. Jerusha lined them up, straightened their dresses, and wiped their noses. Then she led them in an orderly and willing line towards the dining room to enjoy a happy half hour with bread and milk and fruit pudding.
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