The first Wednesday in every month was a Perfectly Awful Day—a day to
be awaited with dread, endured with courage and forgotten with haste.
Every floor must be spotless, every chair dustless, and every bed without
a wrinkle. Ninety-seven squirming little orphans must be scrubbed and
combed and buttoned into freshly starched ginghams; and all ninety-seven
reminded of their manners, and told to say, 'Yes, sir,' 'No, sir,' whenever a