"Well, of course, that came nigh to endin' me ever 'n' ever! No Christian would ever dream of answering her front-door bell from her back ridge-pole, 'n' I never was one to do nothin' as folks could talk of. I see it was do or die right then or there 'n' I made a quick slide for the porch roof. You know what happened, 'n' I never have felt to forgive the minister, even if it was n't him as drove that unexpected nail in my roof. Mrs. Lathrop, we 've spoke of this afore, 'n' I 've said then, 'n' I 'll say now, that in spite of my likin' for you, no one as rocks forever on a cushion can be able to even surmise what it is to slide quick over a unexpected nail, 'n' so it was only natural that even in the first hour I never looked for anything from you but Pond's Extract. But I may remark further—for it 's right you should know—that nothin' in my whole life ever rasped me worse the wrong way of my hair than to watch you rockin' that fortnight that I had my choice to stand up or go to bed, 'n' even in bed I had to get up 'n' get out if I wanted to turn over. Mr. Shores told Mrs. Macy as probably it was the sun as had drawed that nail, 'n' all I can say is that I hope if it was the sun 'n' he ever takes it into his head to draw another of my nails, that he 'll either draw it completely out or leave it completely in, for I know as I never want to come down from another ridge-pole by way of another nail—not while I 'm alive anyhow."

A short pause and a long sigh. Mrs. Lathrop sighed, too.

"Then come the bill from the carpenter 'n' from young Doctor Brown, 'n' for raisin' the anvil, 'n' I was hardly onto my legs before Mr. Dill's horse quit his hind ones. Mr. Weskin was up 'n' doin' as usual 'n' advised bringin' a joint suit with the blacksmith for the anvil 'n' me for the crick, but even if I was helpless the blacksmith wa' n't goin' to be sued if he could do anything else, 'n' he brung Mr. Dill up to see if we could n't arbitrate ourselves. Mr. Dill 's always been very nice to me, but that wheat-fly made him so mad to be paid something by somebody that it took the blacksmith 'n' me and four glasses of root beer to bring him to reason. In the end he said if the blacksmith would shoe everything he owned till it died 'n' if I would put up Lucy's currants till I died that he 'd call them two legs straight. We wrote a paper 'n' signed it 'n' I went to bed, 'n' seemed like my trials were certainly more than any mortal could stand under, particularly when you consider that a good deal of the time I had n't been able to sit down.

"I don't see why any one should be surprised over me lookin' worried. It says in the Bible that if you 'n' Mohamet ain't on the mountain you 're bound to have the mountain 'n' Mohamet both on you, 'n' I must say I believe it's true. I 've had to take the ten dollars as I never touch, 'n' the ten as I never will touch, 'n' the ten as I never will touch so help me Heaven—'n' spend 'em all. 'N' I don't know what I am goin' to do now, I 'm sure. Bein' yourself, Mrs. Lathrop, you can't in reason be expected to understand what it is to me to have no one but you to turn to. You 've got your good points, but you ain't no hand to have ideas nor yet to advise. I 've been slow in comin' to that view of you, but I 've got to it at last, 'n' got over it, 'n' I 'm walkin' alone now on the further side."

Mrs. Lathrop looked apologetic, but remained tritely silent. Susan backed away from the fence.

"It 's gettin' damp," she said; "you 've got rheumatism anyway, so you don't care if you take cold, but I ain't very anxious to, 'n' so I think we 'd ought to go in."

Mrs. Lathrop nodded, and turned to go.

"I hope I have n't made you feel uneasy, Mrs. Lathrop," Susan said, as she also turned; "you know me well enough to know as if I come to starvation it would never be nothin' but a joy to me to see you starve with me."

Mrs. Lathrop nodded.

Susan nodded.

And thus they parted for the night.



PART SECOND

GRAN'MA MULLINS'S WOE

It was some days later—a summer afternoon. The setting sun was brightening the western sky, and Susan, with her bonnet on and her sun-shade leaning beside her, sat on Mrs. Lathrop's porch and discoursed in a fashion that partook alternately of the lively and of the dejected. Mrs. Lathrop rocked calmly and listened yet more so.

"Things is goin' worse 'n' worse," said the caller; "I 've had to bring myself down to doin' my own weedin', so as to save that ten cents a week I give Augustus, 'n' Lord knows I 'd gladly put up anything for anybody, but everybody in this town puts up themselves. I don't know how I will get along if suthin' don't turn up, 'n' I can't see what can turn up with every one head over ears deep in the weddin's 'n' young Doctor Brown settin' the whole town mad over the crick. That 's a very strange thing about the crick, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' it seems to be pretty generally admitted now that inside or out the crick 's good for most anything in anybody, but this new idea as it 's a sure cure for asthma is just doin' folks up alive. Young Doctor Brown says he's been investigatin' under his own microscope, 'n' he says there ain't a doubt but the crick polliwogs can eat up the asthma polliwogs as fast as you can shake 'em together in a bottle. He 's goin' to Meadville 'n' shake 'em up for old Doctor Carter, 'n' then he 's goin' to send to the city for a pint of typhoid fever 'n' a half-pint of diphtheria 'n' let 'em loose on that. Mr. Kimball asked him if he was positive which side was doin' the swallowin' 'n' if he had the crick ones wear a band on their left arms when they went into battle, but young Doctor Brown explained as there could n't be no mistake, for asthma has got four claws in its tail and the crick has horns all over. Mrs. Macy says, under them circumstances she shall make her tea with boiled rain-water hereafter, 'n' she says she ain't sure as she 's got enough faith left in the crick to even scrub with it."

"If I—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Gran'ma Mullins is a good deal upset," said Susan; "she don't like the notion of young Doctor Brown's bringin' so much typhoid and diphtheria into town just as Hiram 's goin' to get married a tall. She says she 's got enough to worry over about Hiram without that. She says she 's feelin' worse over him every day. She can't talk about it without chokin'. She says she 's got his rattle and his first sock pinned up by the clock, so every time she looks up at the time she can see 'em 'n' cry again. She says it ain't in reason as Lucy 'll ever understand Hiram. She says Hiram 's a very singular disposition, but if you always ask him to do what you don't want done 'n' to never do what 's got to be done right off he 's one of the handiest men around the house as she ever see. She says he eats a lot of sugar 'n' you must n't notice it, 'cause he always says as he never does; and he most never goes to church, but you must n't tell him so, 'cause he says he goes regular, 'n' she says as he likes to keep molasses candy in his pockets 'n' under his pillow, 'n' heaven knows, likin' molasses candy ain't no crime, and yet she 's almost sure Lucy 's goin' to make his life miserable over it. She says her cup was full enough without no pint of diphtheria added, 'n' I d'n know as I ever see any one more downhearted. Mrs. Macy 'n' me stayed and shook our heads with her for a while 'n' then we went on t Mrs. Allen's to look at Polly's weddin' things. Every one in town is goin' to look at Polly's weddin' things, 'n' you 'd really suppose as the deacon was any one in the world but the deacon to see how they 've fixed Polly up to marry him. Four of everythin' 'n' six o' some. Only not a apron in the whole,—the deacon would n't have it. He said right out as he wa'n't marryin' Polly to work her to skin 'n' bone, and he knows how he wants his house kept 'n' his cookin' done, so he 'll just keep on keepin' 'n' cookin' as usual. He 's fixed up a good deal; the canary bird 's got a brass hook after all these years o' wooden-peggin', 'n' he 's bought one o' them new style doormats made out o' wire with 'Welcome P. W.' let into it in green marbles. 'P. W.' stands for 'Polly White,' 'n' Mr. Kimball told Mr. Macy they had a awful time over sticking the marbles in 'n' a awful time gettin' the letters to suit. The deacon was for 'P. W.' all along 'n' Polly was for the deacon, but Mrs. Allen was for Polly's name, because Polly ain't married yet, 'n' they got P. A. stuck in afore any one knowed how it'd look, 'n' then they tried to patch it up with a 'W' added 'n' that seemed like it was a new way to say to be sure 'n' wipe your feet. Mr. Kimball told Mrs. Macy he nigh to died laughin', 'n' he did n't mind how he broke his nails pickin' marbles in 'n' out when he could have so much fun. So they settled for 'P. W.,' 'n' Mrs. Macy 's more than a little bitter over it all, for she says the deacon 'll soon come to his senses 'n' then it'll be too late to get that 'P. W.' off of his door-mat again. But the deacon ain't carin'. He's friskin' around like a colt, 'n' they say he 's got two new suits of clothes 'n' a new hat for the goin' away. He was always that way though—I recolleck Mr. Kimball's sayin' when Mrs. White died that the deacon had been dyein' his hair 'n' bein' patient for over fifteen years.

"Well—about them weddin' things of Polly's!—Mrs. Allen took me upstairs 'n' I saw 'em all. The weddin' veil is looped along the lamberquin with a glove pinned to each curtain, the dress hangs on a frame between against the window shade, 'n' the under things is folded on a table at one side with the stockin's tied together in a true lovers'-knot. I must say they 've done it all real tasty, with the deacon's picture in the middle leanin' up against her shoes. It 's a open question about the shoes still, 'cause if Polly wears any shoes a tall it only makes her that much more higher than the deacon, but Mrs. Allen says, seein' as it 's as it is, she hopes Polly 'll only think o' how the higher her heels is the more room it 'll give her train to spread. It 's a very handsome train 'n' they 've measured so 's it 'll make the next set o' parlor curtains at the Whites'.

"I declare, Mrs. Lathrop, I can't tell you how all these weddin's 'n' talkin's do blue me up! To see every one spendin' money 'n' me without any even to save. Mr. Dill asked me yesterday if I did n't want to take Gran'ma Mullins to board for the honeymoon, an' I suppose I could maybe do it, but oh my! I can't say as I take to that idea much. I 'm fond o' Gran'ma Mullins, but these days Hiram is nothin' but a bottomless pit when she gets at him, 'n' a honeymoon is a long time to hear one person talk about one person. I can 't say as I ever had anythin' again Hiram except that time 't he did n't catch Jathrop to lynch him, but all the same I ain't over fond o' any one as goes around with their mouth half-open the year through. Mr. Kimball said once as Hiram Mullins was the best design for a penny bank as he ever saw, 'n' Polly Allen says she 's more 'n sorry for Lucy, 'cause no matter how hard Lucy was to try, Polly says it stands to reason as she could n't get more 'n half a kiss at once. Mrs. Allen giggled, 'n' we all did, too, 'cause the deacon carries his mouth so tight shut that it's a question if Polly ever gets a kiss a tall.

"Mrs. Brown says Doctor Brown is gettin' surer 'n' surer about the crick. He 's been paintin' the cat with asthma 'n' then washin' him in crick water, 'n' Mrs. Brown says he wa'n't dead up to the time he run away anyhow."

"That big—" queried Mrs. Lathrop.

"Yes, with the yellow eyes. He 's been gone a week, but they don't care. Mrs. Brown says that cat was so everlastin'ly around that he made her feel like she was married again, 'n' she was glad to have him light out. She says he was so like a man it was awful,—wantin' to sit by the fire 'n' think till you was dyin' to empty the tea-kettle over his head, 'n' forever placidly yawnin' when you was turned a hundred ends at once. Mrs. Brown says Amelia 's goin' to give a wash-cloth shower for Polly and Lucy day after to-morrow. She says young Doctor Brown says if he comes out on top about that crick-cure for asthma Amelia can do anythin' she pleases. He says this town 'll be a real cure then, 'n' we 'll see no end of money flow into us,—she says he says we can all take boarders at fancy prices 'n' serve 'em to the crick at a penny a glass. I don't know but what I might take a few quiet boarders myself that way. They 'd be quiet because they could n't be lively, 'n' the asthma 'd choke 'em to where they could n't eat much."

"I—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"I could have 'Liza Em'ly to help me, I presume. I could advertise 'n' when they answered I could go in town 'n' look at them and take my pick. I 'd want to be sure as they were quiet, 'n' I 'd want to be sure as they were sick—I would n't take no chances at havin' one o' these merry-go-round summer families land on me, I know. Like as not there 'd be a boy, 'n' you know yourself, Mrs. Lathrop, that while a boy may perhaps accidentally happen to be a comfort he 's very much more likely just to be a boy."

"Yes," said Mrs. Lathrop—"I—"

"Yes, o' course," said Susan, "'n' look where he come out! If Jathrop had been a girl how different everything would have been for him—not to speak o' the rest of us. You can't deny that, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' you can't deny either as Jathrop would have been better off himself if he 'd been any other thing as God ever made."

"He—" said the mother.

"You thought so," said Susan, "but nobody else ever did. Mothers is always mothers 'n' the best will in the world don't seem able to help 'em out o' the scrape. There's Gran'ma Mullins just cryin' her eyes out these days over Hiram, 'n' you 'd think Lucy was a sea-serpent and Hiram was chained to a rock to hear her go on. She says she 's raised Hiram so careful to be a comfort to her all these years 'n' she says he promised her when he was only two 'n' a half years old that he 'd never smoke nor drink nor get married. She says she 's trusted him all his life 'n' this is the first time as he ever broke his word to her. She says all his little ways is just so sweet, but she feels sure Lucy won't never let him dip his bread in the platter-gravy 'n' Hiram 's so awful fond of platter-gravy. She says he likes to have the potato-smasher right by his place at the table 'n' pound the meat to make more juice come out, 'n' she says it 's been nothin' but a joy to her always to let him, 'cause his father died when he wa'n't but eleven months old. But she says she just knows Lucy 'll be death on Hiram's potato-smasher, 'n' she says she most feels as if Lucy was goin' to be death on Hiram, too. She says she can't look at Hiram these days without chokin' over thinkin' how Lucy 's goin' to look at him inside o' three months. She says Hiram 's a very tender nature, he can't be hurried awake mornin's, 'n' if he wakes up in the night he has to have gingerbread 'n' whistle till he drops off to sleep again. She says no one as really loved Hiram would mind such little trifles as that, but she says she has her doubts as to Lucy's really lovin' Hiram, 'n' even if she does really love him now, she says it ain't no reason as she 'll keep on lovin' him long. She says time alone 'll tell what the end 'll be, 'n' she only hopes 'n' prays that whatever Lucy does or does n't do, that she 'll never forget as she was well 'n' richly warned beforehand, for she says she went herself in streamin' tears 'n' begged her not to marry Hiram, an' she 's kept straight on till now she 's almost done it."

Susan ceased speaking and took up her parasol.

"Are—" remonstrated Mrs. Lathrop.

"I must," said her neighbor; "I 'm hungry 'n' I want time to beat up some soda-biscuit. It 's no use your askin' me to stay to supper, because my heart is set on soda-biscuit 'n' I like my own better than any one could ever like yours. I don't say that unkindly, Mrs. Lathrop, for I ain't got a unkind thing about me, 'n' I could n't lay anything up against you even if I wanted to. Even when I get all at outs with you over your rockin' I never lay it up against you—we 've been friends too many years. If you can be happy rockin' through life till some fine day you rock over backward into your coffin, all I can say is that it won't be my funeral, 'n' bein' as it will be yours, I shall be too busy that day to fuss over ifs 'n' ands. I 'm keepin' the board 'n' saw-horses as father had for you, 'n' the black bow from his door-bell, too, 'n' after you 're done with them I 'm intendin' to give them to the first needy 'n' deservin' person as comes along in need of 'em."

Susan started down the steps.

"But—" protested Mrs. Lathrop.

"Probably not," said her friend, "but you never can tell. Anyhow I 'm goin' now. You don't appear to consider how valuable my time is, Mrs. Lathrop, but that 's another thing as I don't lay up against you."

* * * * *

For the next week Miss Clegg's financial difficulties rubbed on in much the same way. So did the wedding preparations of Polly Allen and Lucy Dill. Debts and dates are two things which are famous for movement, and in between her periods of repose in her own house and of activity about town Susan seized every chance possible to impart the impending state of every one's affairs to her neighbor.

"The blacksmith was up again last night," she said one sunny morning, when the need of hanging out her wash had brought her and Mrs. Lathrop within conversational distance; "he wants to have his rent a little lowered so as he can bric-a-brac the side of the crick himself. He says there 's stones enough to do it, only he must hire a man to help him. I told him I 'd consider it, 'n' goin' out in the dark he fell over the scraper. I declare I got a damage-suit chill right down my spine 'n' I run out with a candle, 'n', thank heaven, he had n't broke nothin' but the scraper. I 've been wonderin' if it would pay to sue him for that, but I don't believe I will, because folks has been fallin' over it ever since father nailed it to the front o' the step so 's to let his pet weasel go back 'n' forth at the side. The weasel 's been dead for ages, but the scraper 's never been changed. I wish I could remember that weasel. Father loved him 'n' mother hated him,—she said she was always findin' him asleep in her shoes and sleeves. I was speakin' about it to Gran'ma Mullins to-day 'n' she said she remembered comin' to tea at mother's once 'n' their findin' the weasel in the tea-pot. I guess that's the first time Gran'ma Mullins has spoken of any livin' soul but Hiram in six months. She 's feelin' worse than ever over Lucy's decidin' to be married at home on account o' the blue bengaline. She says that's a extra turn o' the ice-cream-freezer handle as she never counted on havin' to submit to. She says she naturally supposed if Hiram got married as she 'd sit in the front pew for once in her life, 'n' see the bride's dress good, 'n' hear the answers plain, 'n' now instid her only child, as she 's loved like a mother ever since he was born, is goin' to be married in a parlor as private as if he was bein' buried from the smallpox! She says, oh dear, oh dear, seems like she never will be able to live down that mirror as she smashed with her head the first time she saw what she looked like. She says she wa'n't more 'n nine months old 'n' yet that mirror has tagged her right through life ever since. She says she missed all her school examinations 'n' did n't get the deacon 'n' did get her husband, 'n' as if that wa'n't enough she must needs lose her husband, 'n' she 's had no choice but to be a widow ever since, 'n' she 's been sprained in all directions 'n' been broke in all directions 'n' her mince-meat 'most always ferments 'n' Hiram 's been her one bright spot 'n' now he 's got to get married in a parlor. She says the worst is as it would draw bread right out of a stone to see how cheerful Hiram is these days,—she says any one would suppose as Lucy Dill was goin' to surely make him happy to see how he goes smilin' around. She says it 's one of the most pathetikest sights as she ever see to watch Hiram markin' off the days on his calendar, 'n' she cried when she told me. She says no one need n't tell her as there 's any one else like Hiram, for she knows him well enough to know as it could n't possibly be true. And then she cried again. I tell you what, Mrs. Lathrop, I may be pretty well churned up over my money troubles, but I can assure you as I feel like a monkey jumpin' through three rings at once beside Gran'ma Mullins. Mrs. Macy says that when Hiram goes to see Lucy you can hear her sobbin' way to the crick,—Mrs. Macy says the first night she thought it was Mr. Jilkins comin' into town with a hot wheel. I would n't be surprised myself to see Gran'ma Mullins drop dead when she hears Lucy get Hiram for better for worse. It 's awful to see a mother suffer so. I don't see how Hiram stands it. If I was him 'n' she had a stroke at my wedding I should call it a stroke o' luck 'n' nothin' else. Not that I don't feel kindly disposed towards Gran'ma Mullins, but I 'm pretty tired hearin' her tale o' woe. Other folks' troubles is generally more interestin' to other folks than they are to me, and besides, if it really comes to talkin' of troubles, nobody ain't got no more to talk about than I have myself. This money question is nippin' me sharper in the calves every day, and when Mrs. Macy told me yesterday as her steps was givin' out I felt like sittin' down on 'em when they done it. Lord knows, I 'd never be one to wave my flag from no post-hole in the thick of no flight, 'n' you know yourself, Mrs. Lathrop, that as a general thing I keep a stiff upper-cut through black and blue, but still if Mrs. Macy's steps really do break down I feel like I shall have no choice but to Jack-and-Jill it after 'em."

"Maybe—" suggested Mrs. Lathrop, hopefully.

"Well, I ain't a-expectin' it anyhow. I 'm expectin' ruin, 'n' I can hear it howlin' and nosin' around my house all night long. Somethin' was swimmin' in the cistern last night, too,—if it made the other side safe I 'm all right, but if it drowned there 'll be another bill. It ain't no use your tryin' to cheer me up, Mrs. Lathrop, because I ain't to be cheered. I know I 'm goin' to the poorhouse, 'n' I don't thank you nor no other man for tellin' me to my face as what I know ain't so. Gran'ma Mullins 'n' me is two very sad hearts these days, 'n' Heaven help us both. To hear her talk you 'd think the Siamese twins was the sun and moon apart compared to her 'n' Hiram, 'n' now she 's got to give him up to Lucy Dill. She says Lucy ain't old enough to appreciate Hiram; she says Lucy 'll expect Hiram to be pleased, 'n' Hiram ain't never pleased; she says when Hiram keeps still 'n' don't say nothin' he's pleased, 'n' when he goes to bed 'n' to sleep right off he 's real pleased. She says Lucy won't understand, 'n' then there 'll be trouble. She says trouble is a awful thing to have, 'n' she knows all about it 'cause she had it with her husband. She says the only good o' havin' trouble with your husband is the comfort you get out o' talkin' about it, 'n' that when she thinks as Lucy 'll get her comfort out o' talkin' about Hiram she pretty nearly gets up and goes right out of her mind."

Susan stopped suddenly; she had been standing with her basket in her hand, in the attitude of one arrested for a moment's inquiry, throughout this conversation.

"Did you—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Yes, I did. It was n't no great joy, pinched as I am, but I believe in doin' what you can for people gettin' married—God help 'em—'n' I give 'em each somethin'. I give Lucy a very good pair of scissors as mother had, as always grabs me in the joint so I can't use 'em, 'n' I give Polly our best carvin' knife. They was both sharp things, so they each had to give me a cent to hold on to friendship. I know two cents ain't much, but it 's better 'n nothin', 'n' I may tell you in confidence, Mrs. Lathrop, as all my presents 'll be sharp right along from now on."

Mrs. Lathrop raised her eyebrows to testify to the acute perception which had grasped her friend's point at once.

"Are you—" she asked presently.

"Goin' to the weddin's?—oh, yes. It may make me a little blue to look at Lucy, but it could n't but cheer anybody to compare themselves with Gran'ma Mullins. She says it 's goin' to half murder her, 'n' she 's made Hiram promise as he 'll give her his first husband's kiss. Lucy 's got the idea as she 'll have a weddin' procession o' Mr. Dill 'n' her, an' Hiram 'n' his mother, down the stairs 'n' in through the back parlor. Hiram don't want to, 'cause he 's afraid his mother won't let go of him when the time comes. Hiram says he ain't lived through these last weeks o' half stranglin' without knowin' what he 's talkin' about all right, but Lucy 's dead set on the procession. They 're goin' to try 'n' keep Polly 'n' the deacon a little back 'n' out o' sight, 'cause there 's a many as thinks as half o' Gran'ma Mullins's tears is for the deacon, only she can't say so. Mrs. Allen says every one is talkin' that idea, 'n' Mrs. Sperrit says she hopes to Heaven as it ain't so, for how the deacon is to be kept a little back God only knows, for he 's so happy these days that he 's more than ever everlastin'ly on tap. Mrs. Sperrit 's been very kind; she 's goin' to take Gran'ma Mullins to the Dills', 'n' she says she 'll take her home afterwards. Gran'ma Mullins is goin' to carry ammonia 'n' camphor, 'n' be sure an' have the corks out of 'em both."

"I wish—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Yes, I do, too," said her friend, heartily, "but I 'll come 'n' tell you about them both right afterwards. I d'n know as I was ever more curious in my life than I am to see how Lucy is going to claw Hiram free long enough to marry him. 'N' I 'm interested in Polly's weddin', too. But there is no use deceivin' you as to one thing, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' that is as what interests me the most of all, is what under the sun I 'm goin' to do myself to get some money. I can't live on bread 'n' water alone, 'n' even if I could, the flour 'll soon give out if I bread it along steady for very long. I 've got to get some money somehow, 'n' I 've about made up my mind as to what I 'll have to do. It makes me sick to think of it, 'cause I hate him so, but I guess I 'll have to come to it in the end. I 'll go to the weddin's, 'n' then I 'll brace up 'n' make the leap."

Mrs. Lathrop looked perturbed—even slightly anxious.

"I 'm sorry not to be able to tell you all my plans," Miss Clegg continued, "but—"

She stopped suddenly—a train-whistle had sounded afar.

"My heavens alive! if that ain't to-day's ten-o'clock comin' from Meadville, 'n' me solemnly promised to be at Lucy's at half-past nine to help Mrs. Macy stone raisins! Well, Mrs. Lathrop, I would n't have believed it of you if I had n't been a eyewitness!—"



PART THIRD

LUCY DILL'S WEDDING

"Well, Lucy has got Hiram!"

There was such a strong inflection of triumphant joy in Miss Clegg's voice as she called the momentous news to her friend that it would have been at once—and most truthfully—surmised that the getting of Hiram had been a more than slight labor.

Mrs. Lathrop was waiting by the fence, impatience written with a wandering reflection all over the serenity of her every-day expression. Susan only waited to lay aside her bonnet and mitts and then hastened to the fence herself.

"Mrs. Lathrop, you never saw nor heard the like of this weddin' day in all your own ays to be or to come, 'n' I don't suppose there ever will be anything like it again, for Lucy Dill did n't cut no figger in her own weddin' a tall,—the whole thing was Gran'ma Mullins first, last 'n' forever hereafter. I tell you it looked once or twice as if it would n't be a earthly possibility to marry Hiram away from his mother, 'n' now that it 's all over people can't do anything but say as after all Lucy ought to consider herself very lucky as things turned out, for if things had n't turned out as they did turn out I don't believe anything on earth could have unhooked that son, 'n' I 'm willin' to swear that anywhere to any one.

"Do you know, Mrs. Lathrop, that Gran'ma Mullins was so bad off last night as they had to put a mustard plaster onto her while Hiram went to see Lucy for the last time, 'n' Mrs. Macy says as she never hear the beat o' her memory, for she says she 'll take her Bible oath as Gran'ma Mullins told her what Hiram said 'n' done every minute o' his life while he was gone to see Lucy Dill. 'N' she cried, too, 'n' took on the whole time she was talkin' 'n' said Heaven help her, for nobody else could, 'n' she just knowed Lucy 'd get tired o' Hiram's story 'n' he can't be happy a whole day without he tells it, 'n' she 's most sure Lucy won't like his singin' 'Marchin' Through Georgia' after the first month or two, 'n' it 's the only tune as Hiram has ever really took to. Mrs. Macy says she soon found she could n't do nothin' to stem the tide except to drink tea 'n' listen, so she drank an' listened till Hiram come home about eleven. Oh, my, but she says they had the time then! Gran'ma Mullins let him in herself, 'n' just as soon as he was in she bu'st into floods of tears 'n' would n't let him loose under no consideration. She says Hiram managed to get his back to the wall for a brace 'cause Gran'ma Mullins nigh to upset him every fresh time as Lucy come over her, 'n' Mrs. Macy says she could n't but wonder what the end was goin' to be when, toward midnight, Hiram just lost patience 'n' dodged out under her arm 'n' ran up the ladder to the roof-room 'n' they could n't get him to come down again. She says when Gran'ma Mullins realized as he would n't come down she most went mad over the notion of her only son's spendin' the Christmas Eve to his own weddin' sleepin' on the floor o' the attic 'n' she wanted to poke the cot up to him, but Mrs. Macy says she drew the line at cot-pokin' when the cot was all she 'd have to sleep on herself, 'n' in the end they poked quilts up, 'n' pillows, 'n' doughnuts 'n' cider 'n' blankets, 'n' Hiram made a very good bed on the floor 'n' they all got to sleep about three o'clock.

"Well, Mrs. Lathrop, what do you think? What do you think? They was so awful tired that none of 'em woke till Mrs. Sperrit come at eleven next day to take 'em to the weddin'! Mrs. Macy says she hopes she 'll be put forward all her back-slidin's if she ever gets such a start again. She says when she peeked out between the blinds 'n' see Mrs. Sperrit's Sunday bonnet 'n' realized her own state she nearly had a fit. Mrs. Sperrit had to come in 'n' be explained to, 'n' the worst of it was as Hiram could n't be woke no-how. He 'd pulled the ladder up after him 'n' put the lid on the hole so 's to feel safe, 'n' there he was snug as a bug in a rug 'n' where no human bein' could get at him. They hollered 'n' banged doors 'n' sharpened the carvin' knife an' poured grease on the stove 'n' did anything they could think of, but he never budged. Mrs. Macy says she never was so close to beside herself in all her life before, for Gran'ma Mullins cried worse 'n ever each minute, 'n' Hiram seemed like the very dead could n't wake him.

"They was all hoppin' around half crazy when Mr. Sperrit come along on his way to the weddin' 'n' his wife run out 'n' told him what was the matter 'n' he come right in 'n' looked up at the matter. It did n't take long for him to unsettle Hiram, Mrs. Macy says. He got a sulphur candle 'n' tied it to a stick 'n' h'isted the lid with another stick, 'n' in less 'n two minutes they could all hear Hiram sneezin' an' comin' to. 'N' Mrs. Macy says when they hollered what time it was she wishes the whole town might have been there to see Hiram Mullins come down to earth. Mr. Sperrit did n't hardly have time to get out o' the way 'n' he did n't give his mother no show for one single grab,—he just bounced into his room 'n' you could have heard him gettin' dressed on the far side o' the far bridge.

"O' course, us at Lucy's did n't know anythin' a tall about Mrs. Macy's troubles. We had our own, Heaven help us, 'n' they was enough, for the very first thing of all Mr. Dill caught his pocket on the corner of Mrs. Dill 'n' come within a ace of pullin' her off her easel. That would have been a pretty beginnin' to Lucy's weddin' day if her father had smashed her mother's glass to bits, I guess, but it could n't have made Lucy any worse; for I will say, Mrs. Lathrop, as I never see no one in all my born life act foolisher than Lucy Dill this day. First she 'd laugh 'n' then she 'd cry 'n' then she 'd lose suthin' as we 'd got to have to work with. 'N' when it come to dressin' her!—well, if she 'd known as Hiram was sleepin' a sleep as next to knowed no wakin' she could n't have put on more things wrong side out an' hind side before! She was n't dressed till most every one was there 'n' I was gettin' pretty anxious, for Hiram was n't there neither, 'n' the more fidgety people got the more they caught their corners on Mrs. Dill. I just saved her from Mr. Kimball, 'n' Amelia saw her goin' as a result o' Judge Fitch 'n' hardly had time for a jump. The minister himself was beginnin' to cough when, all of a sudden, some one cried as the Sperrits was there.

"Well, we all squeezed to the window, 'n' such a sight you never saw. They was gettin' Gran'ma Mullins out 'n' Hiram was tryin' to keep her from runnin' the color of his cravat all down his shirt while she was sobbin' 'Hi-i-i-i-ram, Hi-i-i-i-i-ram', in a voice as would wring your very heart dry. They got her out 'n' got her in an' got her upstairs, 'n' we all sat down 'n' begin to get ready while Amelia played 'Lead, Kindly Light' and 'The Joyous Farmer' alternate, 'cause she'd mislaid her Weddin' March.

"Well, Mrs. Lathrop, you never knowed nothin' like it!—we waited, 'n' we waited, 'n' we waited, 'n' the minister most coughed himself into consumption, 'n' Mrs. Dill got caught on so often that Mr. Kimball told Ed to stand back of her 'n' hold her to the easel every minute. Amelia was just beginning over again for the seventeenth time when at last we heard 'em bumpin' along downstairs. Seems as all the delay come from Lucy's idea o' wantin' to walk with her father 'n' have a weddin' procession, instid o' her 'n' Hiram comin' in together like Christians 'n' lettin' Mr. Dill hold Gran'ma Mullins up anywhere. Polly says she never see such a time as they had of it; she says fightin' wolves was layin' lambs beside the way they talked. Hiram said frank 'n' open as the reason he did n't want to walk in with his mother was he was sure she would n't let him out to get married, but Lucy was dead set on the procession idea. So in the end they done it so, 'n' Gran'ma Mullins's sobs fairly shook the house as they come through the dinin'-room door. Lucy was first with her father 'n' they both had their heads turned backward lookin' at Hiram 'n' his mother.

"Well, Mrs. Lathrop, it was certainly a sight worth seein'! The way that Gran'ma Mullins was glued on! All I can say is as octopuses has got their backs turned in comparison to the way that Hiram seemed to be all wrapped up in her. It looked like wild horses, not to speak of Lucy Dill, would n't never be able to get him loose enough to marry him. The minister was scared; we was all scared. I never see a worse situation to be in.

"They come along through the back parlor, Lucy lookin' back, Mr. Dill white as a sheet, 'n' Hiram walkin' like a snow-plough as is n't sure how long it can keep on makin' it. It seemed like a month as they was under way before they finally got stopped in front o' the minister. 'N' then come the time! Hiram had to step beside Lucy 'n' take her hand 'n' he could n't! We all just gasped. There was Hiram tryin' to get loose 'n' Mr. Dill tryin' to help him. Gran'ma Mullins's tears dripped till you could hear 'em, but she hung on to Hiram like he 'd paid for it. They worked like Trojan beavers, but as fast as they 'd get one side of him uncovered she 'd take a fresh wind-round. I tell you, we all just held our breath, 'n' I bet Lucy was sorry she persisted in havin' a procession when she see the perspiration runnin' off her father 'n' poor Hiram.

"Finally Polly got frightened 'n' begun to cry, 'n' at that the deacon put his arm around her 'n' give her a hug, an' Gran'ma Mullins looked up just in time to see the arm 'n' the hug. It seemed like it was the last hay in the donkey, for she give a weak screech 'n' went right over on Mr. Dill. She had such a grip on Hiram that if it had n't been for Lucy he 'd have gone over, too, but Lucy just hung on herself that time, 'n' Hiram was rescued without nothin' worse than his hair mussed 'n' one sleeve a little tore. Mr. Sperrit 'n' Mr. Jilkins carried Gran'ma Mullins into the dinin'-room, 'n' I said to just leave her fainted till after we 'd got Hiram well 'n' truly married; so they did.

"I never see the minister rattle nothin' through like that marriage-service. Every one was on whole papers of pins 'n' needles, 'n' the minute it was over every one just felt like sittin' right straight down.

"Mrs. Macy 'n' me went up 'n' watered Gran'ma Mullins till we brought her to, 'n' when she learned as it was all done she picked up wonderful 'n' felt as hungry as any one, 'n' come downstairs 'n' kissed Lucy 'n' caught a corner on Mrs. Dill just like she 'd never been no trouble to no one from first to last. I never see such a sudden change in all my life; it was like some miracle had come out all over her 'n' there was n't no one there as was n't rejoiced to death.

"We all went out in the dinin'-room 'n' the sun shone in 'n' every one laughed over nothin' a tall. Mrs. Sperrit pinned Hiram up from inside so his tear did n't show, 'n' Lucy 'n' he set side by side 'n' looked like no one was ever goin' to ever be married again. Polly 'n' the deacon set opposite 'n' the minister 'n' his wife 'n' Mr. Dill 'n' Gran'ma Mullins made up the table. The rest stood around, 'n' we was all as lively as words can tell. The cake was one o' the handsomest as I ever see, two pigeons peckin' a bell on top 'n' Hiram 'n' Lucy runnin' around below in pink. There was a dime inside 'n' a ring, an' I got the dime, 'n' they must have forgot to put in the ring for no one got it."

Susan paused and panted.

"It was—" commented Mrs. Lathrop, thoughtfully.

"Nice that I got the dime?—yes, I should say. There certainly was n't no one there as needed it worse, 'n', although I 'd never be one to call a dime a fortune, still it is a dime, 'n' no one can't deny it the honor, no matter how they feel. But, Mrs. Lathrop, what you 'd ought to have seen was Hiram 'n' Lucy ready to go off. I bet no one knows they 're brides—I bet no one knows what they are,—you never saw the like in all your worst dreams. Hiram wore spectacles 'n' carpet-slippers 'n' that old umbrella as Mr. Shores keeps at the store to keep from bein' stole, 'n' Lucy wore clothes she 'd found in trunks 'n' her hair in curl-papers, 'n' her cold-cream gloves. They certainly was a sight, 'n' Gran'ma Mullins laughed as hard as any one over them. Mr. Sperrit drove 'em to the train, 'n' Hiram says he 's goin' to spend two dollars a day right along till he comes back; so I guess Lucy 'll have a good time for once in her life. 'N' Gran'ma Mullins walked back with me 'n' not one word o' Hiram did she speak. She was all Polly 'n' the deacon. She said it wa'n't in reason as Polly could imagine him with hair, 'n' she said she was thinkin' very seriously o' givin' her a piece o' his hair as she 's got, for a weddin' present. She said Polly 'd never know what he was like the night he give her that hair. She said the moon was shinin' 'n' the frogs were croakin', 'n' she kind o' choked; she says she can't smell a marsh to this day without seein' the deacon givin' her that piece of hair. I cheered her up all I could—I told her anyhow he could n't give Polly a piece of his hair if he died for it. She smiled a weak smile 'n' went on up to Mrs. Brown's. Mrs. Brown 's asked her to stay with her a day or two. Mrs. Brown has her faults, but nobody can't deny as she 's got a good heart,—in fact, sometimes I think Mrs. Brown's good heart is about the worst fault she's got. I 've knowed it lead her to do very foolish things time 'n' again—things as I thank my star I 'd never think o' doin'—not in this world."

Mrs. Lathrop shifted her elbows a little; Susan withdrew at once from the fence.

"I must go in," she said, "to-morrow is goin' to be a more 'n full day. There 's Polly's weddin' 'n' then in the evenin' Mr. Weskin is comin' up. You need n't look surprised, Mrs. Lathrop, because I 've thought the subject over up 'n' down 'n' hind end foremost 'n' there ain't nothin' left for me to do. I can't sell nothin' else 'n' I 've got to have money, so I 'm goin' to let go of one of those bonds as father left me. There ain't no way out of it; I told Mr. Weskin I 'd expect him at sharp eight on sharp business, 'n' he 'll come. 'N' I must go as a consequence. Good night."



PART FOURTH

MR. JILKINS'S HAT

Polly Allen's wedding took place the next day, and Mrs. Lathrop came out on her front piazza about half past five to wait for her share in the event.

The sight of Mrs. Brown going by with her head bound up in a white cloth, accompanied by Gran'ma Mullins with both hands similarly treated, was the first inkling the stay-at-home had that strange doings had been lately done.

Susan came next and Susan was a sight! Not only did her ears stand up with a size and conspicuousness never inherited from either her father or her mother, but also her right eye was completely closed and she walked lame.

"The Lord have mercy!" cried Mrs. Lathrop, when the full force of her friend's affliction effected its complete entrance into her brain,—"Why, Susan, what—"

"Mrs. Lathrop," said Miss Clegg, "all I can say is I come out better than the most of 'em, 'n' if you could see Sam Duruy or Mr. Kimball or the minister you 'd know I spoke the truth. The deacon 'n' Polly is both in bed 'n' can't see how each other looks, 'n' them as has a eye is goin' to tend them as can't see at all, an' God help 'em all if young Dr. Brown an' the mud run dry!" with which pious ejaculation Susan painfully mounted the steps and sat down with exceeding gentleness upon a chair.

Mrs. Lathrop stared at her in dumb and wholly bewildered amazement. After a while Miss Clegg continued.

"It was all the deacon's fault. Him 'n' Polly was so dead set on bein' fashionable 'n' bein' a contrast to Hiram an Lucy, 'n' I hope to-night as they lay there all puffed up as they 'll reflect on their folly 'n' think a little on how the rest of us as did n't care rhyme or reason for folly is got no choice but to puff up, too. Mrs. Jilkins is awful mad; she says Mr. Jilkins wanted to wear his straw hat anyhow, 'n' she says she always has hated his silk hat 'cause it reminds her o' when she was young 'n' foolish enough to be willin' to go 'n' marry into a family as was foolish enough to marry into Deacon White. Mrs. Jilkins is extra hot because she got one in the neck, but my own idea is as Polly Allen's weddin' was the silliest doin's as I ever see from the beginnin', 'n' the end wa'n't no more than might o' been expected—all things considered.

"When I got to the church, what do you think was the first thing as I see, Mrs. Lathrop? Well, you 'd never guess till kingdom come, so I may as well tell you. It was Ed 'n' Sam Duruy 'n' Henry Ward Beecher 'n' Johnny standin' there waitin' to show us to our pews like we did n't know our own pews after sittin' in 'em for all our life-times! I just shook my head 'n' walked to my pew, 'n' there, if it was n't looped shut with a daisy-chain! Well, Mrs. Lathrop, I wish you could have been there to have felt for me, for I may remark as a cyclone is a caterpillar wove up in hisself beside my face when I see myself daisy-chained out o' my own pew by Polly Allen. Ed was behind me 'n' he whispered 'That's reserved for the family.' I give him one look 'n' I will state, Mrs. Lathrop, as he wilted. It did n't take me long to break that daisy-chain 'n' sit down in that pew, 'n' I can assure you as no one asked me to get up again. Mrs. Jilkins's cousins from Meadville come 'n' looked at me sittin' there, but I give them jus' one look back 'n' they went 'n' sat with Mrs. Macy themselves. A good many other folks was as surprised as me over where they had to sit, but we soon had other surprises as took the taste o' the first clean out o' our mouths.

"Just as Mrs. Davison begin to play the organ, Ed 'n' Johnny come down with two clothes-lines wound 'round with clematis 'n' tied us all in where we sat. Then they went back 'n' we all stayed still 'n' could n't but wonder what under the sun was to be done to us next. But we did n't have long to wait, 'n' I will say as anythin' to beat Polly's ideas I never see—no—nor no one else neither.

"'Long down the aisle, two 'n' two, 'n' hand in hand, like they thought they was suthin' pretty to look at, come Ed 'n' Johnny 'n' Henry Ward Beecher 'n' Sam Duruy, 'n' I vow 'n' declare, Mrs. Lathrop, I never was so nigh to laughin' in church in all my life. They knowed they was funny, too, 'n' their mouths 'n' eyes was tight set sober, but some one in the back just had to giggle, 'n' when we heard it we knew as things as was n't much any other day would use us up this day, sure. They stopped in front 'n' lined up, two on a side, 'n' then, for all the world like it was a machine-play, the little door opened 'n' out come the minister 'n' solemnly walked down to between them. I must say we was all more than a little disappointed at its only bein' the minister, 'n' he must have felt our feelin's, for he began to cough 'n' clear up his throat 'n' his little desk all at once. Then Mrs. Davison jerked out the loud stop 'n' began to play for all she was worth, 'n' the door behind banged 'n' every one turned aroun' to see.

"Well, Mrs. Lathrop, we saw,—'n' I will in truth remark as such a sawin' we 'll never probably get a chance to do again! Mrs. Sweet says they practised it over four times at the church, so they can't deny as they meant it all, 'n' you might lay me crossways 'n' cut me into chipped beef 'n' still I would declare as I would n't have the face to own to havin' had any hand in plannin' any such weddin'.

"First come 'Liza Em'ly 'n' Rachel Rebecca hand in hand carryin' daisies—of all things in the world to take to a weddin'—'n' then come Brunhilde Susan, with a daisy-chain around her neck 'n' her belt stuck full o' daisies 'n'—you can believe me or not, jus' as you please, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' still it won't help matters any—'n' a daisy stuck in every button down her back, 'n' daisies tangled up in her hair, 'n' a bunch o' daisies under one arm.

"Well, we was nigh to overcome by Brunhilde Susan, but we drawed some fresh breath 'n' kept on lookin', 'n' next come Polly 'n' Mr. Allen. I will say for Mr. Allen as he seemed to feel the ridiculousness of it all, for a redder man I never see, nor one as looked more uncomfortable. He was daisied, too—had three in his buttonhole;—but what took us all was the way him 'n' Polly walked. I bet no people gettin' married ever zigzagged like that before, 'n' Mrs. Sweet says they practised it by countin' two 'n' then swingin' out to one side, 'n' then countin' two 'n' swingin' out to the other—she watched 'em out of her attic window down through the broke blind to the church. Well, all I can say is, that to my order o' thinkin' countin' 'n' swingin' is a pretty frame o' mind to get a husband in, but so it was, 'n' we was all starin' our eyes off to beat the band when the little door opened 'n', to crown everythin' else, out come the deacon 'n Mr. Jilkins, each with a daisy 'n' a silk hat, 'n' I will remark, Mrs. Lathrop, as new-born kittens is blood-red murderers compared to how innocent that hat o' Mr. Jilkins looked. Any one could see as it was n't new, but he was n't new either as far as that goes, 'n' that was what struck me in particular about the whole thing—nothin' 'n' nobody was n't any different only for Polly's foolishness 'n' the daisies.

"Well, they sorted out 'n' begun to get married, 'n' us all sittin' lookin' on 'n' no more guessin' what was comin' next than a ant looks for a mornin' paper. The minister was gettin' most through 'n' the deacon was gettin' out the ring, 'n' we was lookin' to get up 'n' out pretty quick, when—my heavens alive, Mrs. Lathrop, I never will forget that minute—when Mr. Jilkins—poor man, he's sufferin' enough for it, Lord knows!—when Mr. Jilkins dropped his hat!

"That very next second him 'n' Ed 'n' Brunhilde Susan all hopped 'n' yelled at once, 'n' the next thing we see was the minister droppin' his book 'n' grabbin' his arm 'n' the deacon tryin' madly to do hisself up in Polly's veil. We would 'a' all been plum petrified at such goings on any other day, only by that time the last one of us was feelin' to hop and grab 'n' yell on his own account. Gran'ma Mullins was tryin' to slap herself with the seat cushion, 'n' the way the daisies flew as folks went over 'n' under that clematis rope was a caution. I got out as quick as I—"

"But what—" interrupted Mrs. Lathrop, her eyes fairly marble-like in their redundant curiosity.

"It was wasps!" said Susan. "It was a young wasps' nest in Mr. Jilkins's hat. Seems they carried their hats to church in their hands 'cause Polly did n't want no red rings around 'em, 'n' so he never suspected nothin' till he dropped it. 'N' oh, poor little Brunhilde Susan in them short skirts of hers—she might as well have wore a bee-hive! I will in confidence remark as I got off easy, 'n' you can look at me 'n' figger on what them as got it hard has got on them. Young Dr. Brown went right to work with mud 'n' Polly's veil 'n' plastered 'em over as fast as they could get into Mrs. Sweet's. Mrs. Sweet was mighty obligin' 'n' turned two flower-beds inside out 'n' let every one scoop with her kitchen spoons, besides runnin' aroun' herself like she was a slave gettin' paid. They took the deacon 'n' Polly right to their own house. They can't see one another anyhow, 'n' they was most all married anyway, so it did n't seem worth while to wait till the minister gets the use of his upper lip again."

"Why—" interrogated Mrs. Lathrop.

"Young Dr. Brown wanted to," said Susan, "he wanted to fill my ears with mud, 'n' my eye, too, but I did n't feel to have it done. You can't die o' wasps' bills, 'n' you can o' young Dr. Brown's—leastways when you ain't got no money to pay 'em, like I ain't got just at present."

"It 's—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Yes," said Susan, "it struck me that way, too. This seems to be a very unlucky town. Anything as comes seems to catch us all in a bunch. The cow most lamed the whole community 'n' the automobile most broke its back; time 'll tell what 'll be the result o' these wasps, but there won't be no church Sunday for one thing, I know.

"'N' it ain't the least o' my woes, Mrs. Lathrop, to think as I 've got to sit 'n' smile on Mr. Weskin to-night from between two such ears as is on me, for a man is a man, 'n' it can't be denied as a woman as is mainly ears ain't beguilin'. Besides, I may in confidence state to you, Mrs. Lathrop, as the one as buzzed aroun' my head wa'n't really no wasp a tall in comparison to the one as got under my skirts."

Mrs. Lathrop's eyes were full of sincere condolence; she did not even imagine a smile as she gazed upon her afflicted friend.

"I must go," said the latter, rising with a groan, "seems like I never will reach the bottom o' my troubles this year. I keep thinkin' there's nothin' left 'n' then I get a wasp at each end at once. Well, I 'll come over when Mr. Weskin goes—if I have strength."

Then she limped home.

* * * * *

It was about nine that night that she returned and pounded vigorously on her friend's window-pane. Mrs. Lathrop woke from her rocker-nap, went to the window and opened it. Susan stood below and the moon illuminated her smile and her ears with its most silvery beams.

"He 's just gone!" she announced.

"Yes," said Mrs. Lathrop, rubbing her eyes.

"He's gone; I come over to tell you."

"What—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"I would n't care if my ears was as big as a elephant's now."

"Why—" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"Mrs. Lathrop, you know as I took them bonds straight after father died 'n' locked 'em up 'n' I ain't never unlocked 'em since?"

Mrs. Lathrop assented with a single rapt nod.

"Well, when I explained to Mr. Weskin as I 'd got to have money 'n' how was the best way to sell a bond, he just looked at me, 'n' what do you think he said—what do you think he said, Mrs. Lathrop?"

Mrs. Lathrop hung far out over the window-sill—her gaze was the gaze of the ever earnest and interested.

Susan stood below. Her face was aglow with the joy of the affluent—her very voice might have been for once entitled as silvery.

"He said, Mrs. Lathrop, he said, 'Miss Clegg, why don't you go down to the bank and cut your coupons?'"



* * * * *



A VERY SUPERIOR MAN



Miss Clegg sat in Mrs. Lathrop's rocking-chair, on Mrs. Lathrop's kitchen stoop. Mrs. Lathrop sat at her friend's feet, picking over currants. If she picked over a great many she intended making jelly; if only a few, the result was to be a pie.

Susan had on her bonnet and mitts and held her sun-umbrella firmly gripped between her two hands and her two knees. She looked weary and worn.

"It seems kind o' funny that I bothered to go, now that I come to think it over," she said, gazing meditatively down upon her friend and her friend's currant-picking; "I wa'n't no relation of Rufus Timmans, 'n' although I don't deny as it 's always a pleasure to go to any one's funeral, still it's a long ways to Meadville, 'n' the comin' back was most awful, not to speak o' havin' no dinner nowhere. It never makes no one brisk but a horse to go without eatin', 'n' I must in consequence say 't I was really very sorry as Rufus was dead durin' the last part of the drive; but o' course he was a very superior man, 'n' as a consequence nobody wanted to have it said in after life as they wa'n't to his buryin'. So I went along with the rest, 'n' Heaven help me now, for I never was more beat out in all my life. I was up awful early this mornin' to be sure o' not bein' left, 'n' I may in confidence remark as I 've thought many times to-day as if I had been left I 'd of been a sight better off. Long rides is very frisky for them as is young 'n' in love 'n' likes to drive alternate, but for a woman o' my age, bein' wedged solid for sixteen miles at a time is most tryin'; 'n' comin' back some o' them smart Meadville boys had the fine idea o' puttin' walnuts under the seats, 'n' we rode most of the way thinkin' as they was our bones till Mr. Dill jus' got up 'n' whopped his cushion over to see if it 'd feel any different the other side, 'n' I may state as the results I shall remember till I die."

"Who—" began Mrs. Lathrop.

"Everybody!" said Susan; "I never knowed how superior Rufus was till I see how folks turned out for his funeral. Every minister 'n' doctor in the whole vicinity was there. The Lumbs drove way up from Clightville, got overturned in the brook by the old knife factory, but come along just the same. Old Mr. 'n' Mrs. Trumbull started day before yesterday as soon as they knowed he was dead 'n' ate with relations all the way along 'n' got them to come too whenever they could. They was seven buggies 'n' two democrats when they arrived at last. Mrs. Macy was waitin' for me in the square when I got there this mornin' 'n' she told me as a city reporter had come up to write a account of it 'n' as Dr. Cogswell was goin' to be there. They say as a live bishop wanted to make the prayer but Rufus was so advanced in his views it seemed better not to come out too strong over his dead body. Mrs. Macy said it all showed what a very superior man he was. She says as she feels as maybe we did n't appreciate him enough. She says maybe we was prejudiced. Lord knows it's very hard not to be prejudiced agin' the folks you live among, 'n' I guess any one as see Rufus mildly stumblin' around losin' pocket-handkerchiefs 'd of had a hard time regardin' him as superior; but he was superior, 'n' Mrs. Macy says he always was superior, for her aunt, old Mrs. Kitts, of Meadville, remembers when he was born, 'n' Mrs. Macy says Mrs. Kitts always says as he was superior right from the start. She says as Mrs. Kitts says as Rufus's father was really 'most a nuisance, talkin' about his superiority even the very first week he was born. Mrs. Macy says Mrs. Kitts says that his father said right off the day he was born, as to his order o' thinkin' Rufus was different from other babies right then 'n' there. He told Mrs. Kitts hisself as he knowed folks was often fools over their first babies, 'n' he did n't calcalate to act no such part, but in common honesty he must state as Rufus was 'way above the ordinary run, not because he was his baby, but just because it was the plain truth. Mrs. Kitts said she see Rufus herself when he wa'n't but three days old, 'n' she told Mrs. Macy as she must in truth confess as he looked then jus' about as he always looked—kind of too awful wise to have any sense a tall. Mrs. Macy says Mrs. Kitts says the superior thing about Rufus them first days was the way as his mother looked on him. Mrs. Kitts says Tabitha Timmans was a mos' remarkable woman, straight up her back 'n' all in 'n' out in front—one o' them women as is most all teeth—front teeth, 'n' Mrs. Kitts said whenever she looked at Rufus she was all back teeth too. They had him in a clothes-basket to keep off draughts, with a quilt to pervent changes in the weather, 'n' a mosquito-nettin' for fear a fly might thaw out unexpectedly 'n' get near him. Mrs. Kitts said Tabitha Timmans was just about wild over him; she told Mrs. Kitts she felt it gallopin' up 'n' down her spine as how Rufus was surely goin' to grow up to be a inspector—or mebbe the president; she said any one could see he was in for bein' suthin' high up 'n' sort o' quiet 'n' important. Tilda Ann, Sammy Timmans's aunt, was there too. Mrs. Kitts says she always liked Tilda Ann, what little she see of her, even if she was n't patient. Mrs. Macy says Mrs. Kitts says Tilda Ann never had no real fault, only her never bein' able to be patient. She says if Tilda Ann had only had a little patience it 'd of been a great deal better for her in the end, for if Tilda Ann 'd had a little more patience she 'd never have come scurryin' home cross-lots that night in the fog 'n' gone hickety-pickety over the well-curb, thinkin' it was a stone wall. Mrs. Kitts says she never can help considerin' what a shock Tilda Ann must have got when she realized as she was over, 'n' so was everythin' else."

"My—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"But she was alive then," continued Susan, "'n' she was there takin' care o' Tabitha 'n' watchin' over Rufus. Mrs. Kitts said it did n't take much to see as Tilda Ann had n't no particular admiration for Rufus; she said right then 'n' there, as to her order o' thinkin,' Tabitha 'd ought to teach him to quit suckin' his thumb right off,—she said as it was a most terrible job when they got bigger. Mrs. Kitts said Tabitha said as not many babies was smart enough to suck their thumbs at Rufus's age, 'n' then Tilda Ann said as not many mothers was fool enough to let 'em. Mrs. Kitts said Tilda Ann was never one to mince words. She always said jus' what she thought, 'n' that was a very bad thing for her too, for afore she died she 'd said jus' what she thought to so many people that they had great difficulty gettin' a party together to hunt for her that day as she turned up missin' on a'count of bein' down in the well.

"While we was talkin'—Mrs. Macy 'n' me—up Gran'ma Mullins come 'n' it turned out from her as we was all three expected to squeeze over to Meadville on Mr. Jilkins's back seat together. Mrs. Macy 'n' me was far from pleased at that prospeck, 'n' Gran'ma Mullins did n't look over rejoiced herself. There is them as can wedge, 'n' them as can't, 'n' we was all three the kind as can't. I ain't as wide as Mrs. Macy, nor yet the soft and squashy kind like Gran'ma Mullins, but I will say, Mrs. Lathrop, as bein' overflowed around for sixteen miles, is to my order o' thinkin' full as tryin' as to be overflowin' aroun' somebody else."

"I—" said Mrs. Lathrop, mildly.

"No, you would n't either," said Susan, "I know you better 'n you know yourself, Mrs. Lathrop, for I know you asleep 'n' awake, 'n' you only know yourself awake; not as asleep 'n' awake is n't very much the same thing with you, Mrs. Lathrop; but asleep or awake, the main fact is as I know most, so you can just keep still till I get done with what I 'm sayin'."

Mrs. Lathrop kept still.

"Well, after it was settled as, willy-nilly, we'd got to back-seat it to Meadville together, Gran'ma Mullins begin about what a very superior man Rufus was 'n' what a very superior boy he used to be. Mrs. Macy did n't say nothin', 'cause it was easy to see as she 'd really took it a good deal to heart bein' thirded for sixteen miles; but Gran'ma Mullins went right on with when she lived in Meadville 'n' taught school that winter she was seventeen. She said as Rufus was in her middle class that winter 'n' mos' superior. He was nine 'n' the oldest o' nine, there bein' two pairs o' twins; she said it looked like Tabitha 'n' Sammy had took the Bible about replenishin' the earth right on to their own shoulders. Gran'ma Mullins said it was suthin' to make any one content to teach school forever, only to look at 'em; she said she should always think it was that as made all the men in Meadville so ready to go to the war 'n' the women so calm over their gettin' killed; she said no one wanted to get married there, anyhow."

"But she—" interposed Mrs. Lathrop, quickly.

"Well, but she knew he had a bullet in him 'n the Roman fever 'n' a pension," said Susan, "she knowed she was pretty safe—I would n't blame her under them circumstances. But that's neither here nor anywhere else, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' what with your interruptin' Lord knows when we will get around to Rufus, for I keep forgettin' he 's dead 'n' rememberin' him alive, 'n' no one as remembers Rufus Timmans alive could ever tell anything about him, 'n' you know that as well as I do. Gran'ma Mullins said herself to-day as he was a great problem to her in school, 'n' she used to study him out of all comparison to the other children. Every one admitted as he was superior, 'n' yet no one knowed jus' why. She says he really was superior in lots o' ways, 'n' he whittled her a open-work ink-stand once for a Christmas as she 's used for toothpicks ever since, but she says the inside o' his ideas was surely most amazin'. She says she had him for two years, 'n' all she could say was as in all them two years she was mostly struck dumb by him. She says she used to go up 'n' talk to Tabitha, 'n' Tilda Ann used to come down 'n' talk with her, but nothin' ever seemed to come of it. Tilda Ann declared up 'n' down as he was a fool through 'n' through, 'n' poor Tabitha was awful nervous for fear he 'd invent somethin' in bed some night as would surely blow the house up. Seems he was so ahead at ten years old that he wanted to study to be a chemist, 'n' so behind that he spelt it 'kemst,' 'n' him all of ten years old.

"Gran'ma Mullins said she used to be clean beside herself; he was the show-boy whenever the board came, 'n' never got his lessons between times. She says she always knowed he 'd turn out some way, but Tilda Ann never had no opinion of him a tall. Not as Tilda Ann's opinion mattered much, 'cause she climbed into the well just about then, 'n' Rufus looked out a verse for her tombstone in the Bible. It was a very good motto for her too,—it was, 'Well done, thou good 'n' faithful servant'; it made a lot o' talk, 'cause she really never was paid nothin', but the sentiment about the well was very pretty, 'n' every one thought Tilda Ann herself would have liked it if she 'd stayed up 'n' so had any say in the matter.

"Gran'ma Mullins went on to say as she got married soon after, so she run out of talk, an' Mrs. Macy 'n' me was so tired listenin' to her anyway that we was all more 'n' content jus' to stand aroun' 'n' wait till the Jilkinses come drivin' up. Then we all had to up 'n' in somehow, 'n' I will say, Mrs. Lathrop, as wedgin' Mrs. Macy an' Gran'ma Mullins was certainly a sight to see. They was for puttin' me in the middle, but I was flat for a outside so 's I could breathe, 'n' in the end Mrs. Jilkins set between me 'n' Gran'ma Mullins, 'n' Mrs. Macy set with Mr. Jilkins—what of her did n't hang over outside."

"What did—" began Mrs. Lathrop.

"There was n't no other way to get 'em both there—that's why," said Susan; "there was them as went on the cars, but that was n't no great success, for they was so late that Rufus had his lid all on afore they got there, so they really had very little for their money. 'N' besides, if we 'd all gone on the cars, how was we to get to the grave? Rufus was well this side o' Meadville, 'n' the cemetery's some further this way, 'n' whatever your views may be I hope you don't mind my sayin' right out as other folks' views is always more sensible. You can't be expected to know much, Mrs. Lathrop, with your few church privileges 'n' your parlor too small for the sewin' society; but if you was less inclined to talk 'n' more inclined to listen to me I may in confidence remark as you might learn about the funeral—even if you never learned nothin' else in this world."

Mrs. Lathrop was again silent forthwith.

"Drivin' over we all talked about Rufus. We had really a very pleasant ride, for we was all disposed to view him kindly goin' over. Mrs. Macy told over again what a superior baby he was, 'n' Gran'ma Mullins told over again what a superior boy he was, 'n' Mrs. Macy said as Mrs. Kitts said as he was the talk o' the town when he was twenty-one. Gran'ma Mullins did n't remember much about him then, 'cause she got married along about that time, 'n' she 's always said that them who gets married don't need nothin' else to do for one while; but Mrs. Macy said Rufus was one o' the most superior young men as Mrs. Kitts ever see. She said as old Mr. Tilley took him right into the heart 'n' soul o' his drug-store jus' because his mother was his cousin, 'n' even then the general feelin' was as he was way above the business. Mrs. Macy said as Mrs. Kitts said she 'd never forget goin' in one day for some salts 'n' finding Rufus all alone. Why, she said she never had known he was so head 'n' shoulders above other people! She says she 's told the story a million times 'n' it 's still fresh in her mind. She said she asked for simple salts, 'n' he begun right off about a comet. She felt awful uncomfortable to have to say as she had n't seen no comet, 'n' then it turned out no wonder, 'cause you could only see it from China an' Maddygasgar. She said she was awful interested, 'n' he was too, 'n' in the end he was so interested that he found he had n't poured out o' the salts bottle a tall. It was only just a chance as he remembered as it was salts she wanted, 'n' she said he was so nice about it, went under the counter to find a cork to fit, 'n' told her all about how they get gumarabic while he was under there, 'n' she was so deep in the subjeck that she never noticed, 'n' he stuck a poison label on, 'n' they both laughed over that fit to kill themselves. My goodness, Mrs. Macy said, but Mrs. Kitts said as he was a taking young man. In the end he wrote the name in Latin across the skull 'n' cross-bones, 'n' she only had to always remember as 'Sally Simplex' meant 'simple salts' from then on.

"She went on to say as the biggest thing Rufus ever done long about then was to down their minister in a open conversation one night callin' at Deacon Grummel's. She told all about it, 'n' seems as there was some talk afterwards about gettin' up a subscription to send him to college, only it never come to nothin' 'cause no one wanted to subscribe. Seems the minister was Luther Law, him as moved to Chicago afterwards 'n' got burnt up or out—I forget which—in the fire. Seems he was to Deacon Grummel's one night, 'n' him 'n' Rufus got to discussin' what we all come from. Mrs. Macy says Mrs. Grummel said she never hear the like. She 'n' her husband was jus' all of a tremble. She said afterwards that if it 'd of been any other minister than Luther Law, Rufus would have had him sure. She said it was just like a lecture hall to hear, upon her honor. The minister begun by startin' out for our all comin' from Adam 'n' Eve, but Rufus come out flat for our bein' from monkeys. Well, Mrs. Grummel said she 'n' her husband could n't do no more than feel their hearts beat at that. Rufus jus' argued 'n' kep' on arguin' till he made the minister admit as there was n't nothin' absolute agin' monkeys, 'n' then—if that young man did n't go him one better 'n' say as he believed in tadpoles himself. Luther Law was flat agin' tadpoles, but Rufus never let up till he got him to admit that if the Lord could make a man out of a monkey He could make him out of a tadpole, too. 'N' then, when he'd got him so far, what do you think, Mrs. Lathrop,—what do you think!—Mrs. Macy said as Mrs. Kitts said as Mrs. Grummel said if that young man did n't look right square into Luther's face 'n' say as to his order o' thinkin' it wasn't what we'd come from as mattered so much as what we'd develop into next. 'That's what I want to know,' he said to Luther Law, runnin' his hand into himself in that way as was so fashionable along 'bout then, 'that's what I want to know, 'n' I can't find no one as has a addykit answer for me.'

"Well, Mrs. Macy said Mrs. Kitts said as up to her deathbed day Mrs. Grummel always said as that was the minute o' her life. She said facin' cannon would n't be nothin' to the way she 'n' the deacon felt over seein' the minister asked a thing like that right on top o' their own tea! But, lor, you never could stick Luther Law. A minister would n't be able to be able to be a minister if little things like questions you can't answer could run him aground. He jus' waited a minute 'n' then he looked slow 'n' sad, an' lifted up his hand so, 'n' pointed so, an' said, 'Young man, how can you ask such a question, with the starry heaven right on top of your head?'

"Well! Mrs. Grummel said it was like a flash o' thunder splittin' clean through the air. She said her husband never quit saying to his dying day as that was the smartest thing as Luther Law ever said, considerin' how little time he had to think, 'n' it was the only thing in the wide world as he could of said, too. She said she told that story all over town, 'n' no one could ever decide which was the smartest, Rufus or Luther Law; 'cause even if Luther Law did find a way out, it was such a astonishin' thing as he did that Rufus got a sight o' credit out of comin' as nigh to stickin' him as he did. A good many people begun to say then as he was too superior for a small town;—old Dr. Lumb said as to his order o' thinkin' he 'd ought to move near to some place where he'd have professors to talk to.

"Mrs. Macy said Mrs. Kitts give her to understand, though, as there was a 'nother side to Rufus even then, 'n' it begun to crop out mighty young, too. Mrs. Kitts said she would n't mention it only in confidence, but Mr. Tilley, of the drug-store where Rufus was, told her as he'd be only too glad to see Rufus move anywhere, whether it had professors to talk to or not. Mr. Tilley said his ideas was far too advanced for a small town. Mr. Tilley said he could n't find the easiest things after Rufus had got 'em labelled in Latin, 'n' he said it wasn't practical to classify no drug-store without a rollin' step-ladder anyhow. Then there came up the Kelly cat, 'n' on account of the Kellys havin' money the Kelly cat come nigh to endin' Rufus. I never hear about the Kelly cat afore, but seems as the Kelly cat was ailin' 'n' the Kellys took it to Rufus for catnip, 'n' Rufus got to discoursin' with Bessy on how if you're born under Venus with Mars gettin' up you're bound to marry whoever you love, 'n' he clean forgot what ailed the cat 'n' tried to give her ipecac as if she was croupy instead o' bein' droopy. The cat knowed ipecac even if Rufus did n't, 'n' she bounced out from between him 'n' Bessy 'n' bounced into the winder 'n' busted the big bottle full o' green. Rufus said it was a fit, 'n' he got a hair-oil bottle as gives you a nickel nose of your own for nothin', 'n' he put the nose on the ipecac 'n' got the whole down the cat so far that she come nigh to swallowin' the nose. Mrs. Macy said Mrs. Kelly never felt to forgive Rufus, 'n' it set her deader 'n' ever agin' him, but, lor, Bessy was too head over heels in love to care about cats or ipecac. She was as sure Rufus was superior as any one could be, 'n' every one knowed what was up as well as she 'n' Rufus did. Mrs. Macy said as every one said as a superior young man must marry money or he could n't in reason stay superior long, 'n' Rufus was dead set on stayin' superior, so they was married the next spring 'n' moved to the city, 'n' they did n't come back till it was plain as Mr. Kelly 'd have to support 'em or let Bessy starve on Rufus's superiority."

Susan paused abruptly and sighed. Mrs. Lathrop said never a word. Presently the discourse flowed on again.

"Well, there was n't really no wish to say nothin' but good of Rufus, but it is a long drive to Meadville an' we had to talk, 'n' you know as well as I do, Mrs. Lathrop, as it's nigh to impossible to talk long of people if you 're only to say good of 'em. Rufus was there 'n' dead to talk about, 'n' while we naturally wished him well, still we was pretty tired before we got through drivin' sixteen miles to bury him. Gran'ma Mullins said finally as he was certainly a very superior man, but she knowed from her niece Hannah as he was trying to live with. She said Hannah lived with 'em for five years 'n' looked after the children, 'n cheered Bessy up when she was nigh to wore out with bein' married to Rufus. Hannah never had no use for Rufus Timmans herself,—she was awful fond o' Bessy 'n' the boys, but she drawed the line at Rufus, 'n' Gran'ma Mullins says she never minced matters neither. Gran'ma Mullins says as Hannah used to walk right in on Rufus 'n' let fly whenever she felt as the salvation of her soul called on her to speak or bu'st. She said Hannah said what she could n't stand was the way the general public seemed to coincide with Rufus's opinion of himself. Hannah used to say as the general run o' folks did n't have to live with Rufus Timmans an' she did, 'n' she furthermore used to say if the general run o' folks had had to live with Rufus Timmans they would n't o' viewed him from no fancy standpoint no more 'n' she did herself. Hannah used to say as day in 'n' day out was a terrible lettin' in o' light on dark spots, 'n' for her part she had n't got no use for a man as had the whole o' the inside o' the earth by heart 'n' was n't one earthly bit o' good on the outside of it. Hannah said as all she could say was as she wisht as some o' them as admired his superior understandin' could just be in her place one while. Gran'ma Mullins said as there was one time as Hannah never got over, 'n' that was the cistern, she said as Hannah always got mad whenever she told it, 'n' she told it so often, her face stayed always red in the end, jus' from tellin' that story so often.

"Seems as Rufus thought mebbe there was a dead rat in the cistern, so he had the cistern cleaned out, 'n' the drouth came on, 'n' Monday come on top o' the drouth, 'n' Hannah pumped her arms most off afore she realized as there wa'n't no water a tall, 'n' then she was that mad as she walked right in on Rufus 'n' give it to him.

"Gran'ma Mullins said Hannah said it made her mad only to look at him; he was sittin' in the little shady parlor, jus' softly rockin' back 'n' forth, readin' a book as told why the Dead Sea 's dead. Well, Hannah said no words could tell how much madder she got when she got right in front o' him—to see a able-bodied man rockin' 'n' readin' Dead Seas on top of a empty cistern. Hannah was never one to keep her own counsel in the face of her own feelin's, you know, 'n' she jus' went right up in front of Rufus 'n' said as calm as she could, 'Mr. Timmans, where's the water for the wash to come from?' Gran'ma Mullins said Hannah always said as she tried to stay calm but she give out young, 'n' the sight o' Rufus liftin' his superior eyes jus' did for her. She put her two hands on her two hips, an' let out right then 'n' there, 'Mr. Timmans,' she says, 'you was so sure 't there was a rat drowned in the cistern,' she says, 'that nothin' mus' do but you mus' clean it out,' she says; ''n' there wa'n't no rat,' she says, ''n' it ain't rained since,' she says, ''n' how're we to wash?' she says,—'n' then she waited to see what he would say, 'n' she said a lamb would o' begun to hop about 'n' yowl with mad to see how kind of calm 'n' dazed like 'n' altogether peaceful 'n' happy he looked up at her. 'N' he says, quite placid 'n' contented, 'Can't you get some water out o' the pond?' he says. 'Out o' the pond!' says Hannah, high-keyed like,—Gran'ma Mullins says Hannah always went high-keyed easy,—'out o' that muddy, swampy, slimy, marshy, cow-churned pond,' says Hannah, 'out o' that nasty, dirty, filthy, green pond,' says Hannah, gettin' high-keyeder 'n' high-keyeder. 'I can get it clean for you,' says Rufus, a-openin' the Dead Sea 'n' runnin' his eyes aroun' for his place,—'jus' say when you want it,' he says. Well, Gran'ma Mullins said Hannah always said as she never knowed what kept her off him at that minute, for she was that mad she felt like the righteous judgment o' the Lord was in the ends of her very finger-nails. 'Now,' she says, 'right now,' she says; 'that's when I want it,' she says. Rufus looked up 'n' see she was in earnest, 'n' she says the way he sighed like he was a martyr as led the band was enough to have ended her patience once 'n' for all time if it had n't been for the wash, 'n' then he carefully turned a leaf down in the Dead Sea 'n' got out o' the rocker 'n' went 'n' got Nathan Lumb 'n' they went off together.

"Well, Gran'ma Mullins said Hannah begun to wait, 'n' Hannah waited until if Hannah had waited any longer she 'd have gone off like a rocket, she was that mad again. Gran'ma Mullins said Hannah always got so red she got purple if she only was rememberin' it after. 'N' in the end she could n't stand it no longer 'n' she set off for the pond herself. She always said as she just hoped 'n' prayed as they was both on 'em drowned all the way there, but the Lord in his mercy was n't seein' fit to deal out no such luck, 'n' she found the pond there an' Rufus 'n' Nathan gone.

"'N' what do you suppose she see, Mrs. Lathrop; what do you suppose she see? You never heard the like, 'n' the whole wagon of us could n't but feel as it was maybe just as well as we was on our way to Rufus's funeral, for we never could have faced him in real life after hearin' such a tale.

"Seems there was the pond 'n' there was the edge o' the pond, 'n' there was two barrels as Rufus 'n' Nathan had set close to the edge. One o' the barrels was empty 'n' one was full o' dirty swamp-water, 'n' Rufus's superior mind had hung a old piece o' carpet from one barrel over into the other so it could suck up dirty water 'n' drip off clean, 'n' mebbe if the sun did n't shine too hard Hannah 'd have a pail o' clean water come Hallowe'en. 'N' the wash waitin'!

"Mr. Jilkins said as that was jus' what might o' been expected o' Rufus. He'd like to observe the theery 'n' he would n't care about the wash. Gran'ma Mullins said it did the business for Hannah, though. She never could make up her mind to take Dr. Lumb before on a'count o' his swearin' so, but she made up her mind as anythin' as 'd rid her o' Rufus 'n' give her a chance to boss Nathan 'd fill her bill after that, 'n' she went up that very night 'n' told Dr. Lumb, as if he still wanted her, she was prepared to be took. He wanted her 'n' he took her, 'n' she was to the funeral to-day with Nathan 'n' his two boys, all of 'em brushed so slick you could see with half a eye as Hannah had got a deal o' satisfaction out o' them all these years since.

"She come over to sit beside Gran'ma Mullins 'n' talked a little while. She said Bessy Timmans was bearin' Rufus's loss mos' bravely, 'n' her daughter Betty was come home 'n' brought the baby to comfort her. Hannah said as Betty was a very sweet young woman. She said she never forgot the day when she was only four years old, 'n' asked right out why the family had to be so proud o' Rufus. Hannah said her mother shut her up quick, but it was plain to be seen as that child had eyes for them as could hear, 'n' was pretty quick at sizin' up Rufus.

"It was a awful big funeral. Folks was there from all over. I drove out to the graveyard with old Dr. Lumb 'n' Dr. Cogswell from the city. The other one was Susy Carter, 'n' she's so deaf all I could do was to listen to the front seat. Dr. Cogswell said as it was a great pity that a superior man like Rufus Timmans should have had to live his life out on highways 'n' edges by circumstances probably beyond his control. Dr. Lumb said yes, a small community like Meadville could n't never offer nothin' like a addykit scope to a brain like Rufus's. He said he was surprised as Rufus's brain had managed to scratch along as well as it had under the circumstances. He said, with the exception of himself Rufus had never had no one to really talk to. He said, to be frank, he would in confidence remark to Dr. Cogswell as Bessy Timmans was a very inferior person an' no ways up to Rufus. He said as he should n't be personally surprised to know as her feelin's towards Rufus partook more of a element of impatience than of admiration. He said as one night when he was there he was most dumbfounded to see how little attention she paid with Rufus discoursin' on trilobites 'n their relations to the cursory strata. Dr. Cogswell sighed 'n' said he was afraid he'd have to admit as he feared that was mebbe only too likely to be true. He said he felt a sadness because every trilobite as was related by Rufus was of profound value to any scientific student. He said Rufus was one at whose feet them as is learned could easy sit and learn some more. He said Rufus ought to o' gotten out in the world thirty years ago,—but then he sighed again, 'n' said probably circumstances as no one knowed nothing of probably chained him here. It was easy to see as Dr. Lumb had a awful high opinion o' Rufus, but that 'd be only natural, him bein' married to Hannah as was so dead set agin' him, 'n' he shook his head then 'n' said as he believed as Dr. Cogswell had guessed pretty nigh to the truth. He said he knowed as Bessy was born in Meadville, 'n' as her property was there 'n' he said his own opinion was that with the shortsightedness common to her sex she had chained the eagle so as she might stay among her little circle o' petty friendships, 'n' so the noble bird had worn his soul away in captivity, so to speak.

"Dr. Cogswell said 'Ah!' 'n' then they both shook their heads together 'n' sighed together.

"Hannah did n't go out to the grave. She stayed with Bessy. She took me into the pantry afore we left 'n' said as the spirit o' relief hoverin' in the house was beyond all belief. She said Betty was goin' to take her mother home with her when she went. She said Betty said as she could come back to Meadville whenever she liked, but she said as Bessy said she'd never want to come back. Hannah says Bessy told her as all she asked was to live out her days some place where she 'd never have to hear again what a very superior man Rufus was.

"I stood aroun' an' talked with a lot more folks. The general feelin' was as it was a great honor to be buryin' Rufus, but nobody knowed just why. I thought about it comin' home a-jouncin' along over them walnuts. (My, but they was hard!) The truth seems to be as there 's some folks born to be superior 'n' to know as they're superior, 'n' other folks born to admire 'em, 'n' neither set sees jus' why."

"I—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Well, as long as you say so I may as well admit as I was thinkin' that very thing myself," said Susan; "but far be it from me to have said such a thing myself of myself, Mrs. Lathrop—but as long as you say it I can't but remark as no one in their senses could deny its bein' true o' me."

"I—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Oh, that's your misfortune," said Miss Clegg, graciously; "there ain't no need of apologizin' to a old friend like me. 'N' anyway, Mrs. Lathrop, I guess nobody could n't tell me nothin' about your inferiorities—not after livin' next to you all the years as I have; but you know me, 'n' you know as nothin' ever changes my feelin's towards a friend—not even towards such a friend as you, Mrs. Lathrop."

Mrs. Lathrop was silent.



* * * * *



Other books by Anne Warner



THE REJUVENATION OF AUNT MARY

Always amusing and ends in a burst of sunshine.—Philadelphia Ledger.

Impossible to read without laughing. A sparkling, hilarious tale.—Chicago Record-Herald.

The love story is as wholesome and satisfactory as the fun. In its class this book must be accorded the first place.—Baltimore Sun.

The humor is simply delicious.—Albany Times-Union.

Every one that remembers Susan Clegg will wish also to make the acquaintance of Aunt Mary. Her "imperious will and impervious eardrums" furnish matter for uproarious merriment.... A book to drive away the blues and make one well content with the worst weather.—Pittsburg Gazette.

Cheerful, crisp, and bright. The comedy is sweetened by a satisfying love tale.—Boston Herald.



SUSAN CLEGG AND HER FRIEND MRS. LATHROP

It is seldom a book so full of delightful humor comes before the reader. Anne Warner takes her place in the circle of American woman humorists, who have achieved distinction so rapidly within recent years.—Brooklyn Eagle.

Nothing better in the new homely philosophy style of fiction has been written.—San Francisco Bulletin.

Anne Warner has given us the rare delight of a book that is extremely funny. Hearty laughter is in store for every reader.—Philadelphia Public Ledger.

Susan is a positive contribution to the American characters in fiction.—Brooklyn Times.

Susan Clegg is a living creature, quite as amusing and even more plausible than Mrs. Wiggs. Susan's human weaknesses are endearing, and we find ourselves in sympathy with her.—New York Evening Post.

THE END