"Well, so she got home an' went right up to her house, put the duck in the rat trap, an' went over to ask the minister about her shoes, an' what do you think, Mrs. Lathrop, what do you think! The minister had clean forgot himself! He was sittin' there on his piazza advisin' Mrs. Brown to make her pound-cake by sayin' 'One, two, three, Mother caught a flea,' the flea bein' the butter, an' Mrs. Macy says it was plain to be seen as he was n't a bit pleased at her comin' in that way to have his memory system applied to her backward.

"She says after that she went home to the duck madder 'n ever an' put on her felt slippers an' made up her mind as she'd make up for her lost day by rippin' up her old carpets, an' that was the crownin' pyramid in her Egyptian darkness, for it's the carpet as has ended her."

"Oh—" exclaimed Mrs. Lathrop.

"Oh, she's alive," said Susan, "but she ain't much more 'n alive, an' it's a wonder that she's that, an' it would be very bad for her if she was n't, for young Dr. Brown says she can die fifty times before he'll ever go near her again. He's awful mad an' he's got a bad bump on his nose too where he fell over her, an' Mrs. Sweet's got to stay in bed three days too for her arm where she dislocated it jerkin'—although goodness knows what she tried jerkin' for—for I'd as soon think of tryin' to jerk a elephant from under a whale as to try to jerk Mrs. Macy from under a carpet. An' even with it all they could n't get her up an' had to get the blacksmith's crowbar an' pry, an' Mrs. Sweet says if any one doubts as pryin' is painful they'd ought to of been there to hear Mrs. Macy an' see Hiram an' the blacksmith."

"But what—" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"I'm goin' to tell you if you'll just keep still a little longer an' let me get through to the end," said her friend. "I got this part all back an' forth an' upside down from Mrs. Sweet while I was takin' her home by the other arm. Oh, my, but it's awful about her, for she was preservin' an' wanted a extra cullender an' lost her right arm in consequence. I hope her experience 'll be a lesson to you, Mrs. Lathrop, for it's been such a lesson to me that I may mention right here an' now 't if I ever hear you hollerin' I shall put for the opposite direction as quick as I can for I would n't never take no chances at gettin' dislocated like Mrs. Sweet is—not if I knew it. Young Dr. Brown says she's decapitated the angular connection between her collar bone an' somewhere else, an' she says she can well believe it judgin' from the way her ear keeps shootin' into her wrist an' back again."

"But—" interrupted Mrs. Lathrop.

"Well, Mrs. Lathrop, you know how Mrs. Macy always was forever given to economizin'. I don't say as economizin' is any sin, but I will say as Mrs. Macy's ways of economizin' is sometimes most singular an' to-day's a example of that. Economy's all right as long as you economize out of yourself, but when it takes in Mrs. Sweet an' bumps young Dr. Brown I've no patience—no more 'n Mrs. Sweet an' young Dr. Brown has. Young Dr. Brown says it looks awful to have a black eye an' no reason for it except fallin' over a carpet. He says when he explains as Mrs. Macy was under the carpet no one is goin' to think it any thin' but funny, an' he says a doctor must n't be hurt funny ways. Mrs. Sweet don't feel to blame herself none for her arm 'cause she jerked like she does everythin' else, with her whole heart, an' she says she did so want to set her up that she tried harder an' harder every jerk.

"Well, Mrs. Lathrop, to go 'way back to the beginnin', seems as Mrs. Macy set out last night, as I said before, to make over her carpet. Seems as she wanted to turn it all around so's it'd fade away under the stove an' fray out in the corner where it don't show. I don't say as the idea was n't a good one—although it's come pretty hard on Mrs. Sweet—but anyhow, good or no good, she dug up the tacks last night an' ripped the widths an' set down to sew this mornin'. Her story is as she turned the duck out to pasture right after breakfast an' then went to work an' sewed away as happy as a bean until about ten o'clock. Then she felt most awful tired from the rippin' an' yesterday an' all, so she thought she'd rest a little. Seems as her legs was all done up in the carpet an' gettin' out was hard so she thought she'd just lay back on the floor. Seems she lay back suddener than she really intended an' as she hit the floor, she was took.

"She give a yell an' she says she kept on givin' yells for one solid hour, an' no one come. She says as no words can ever tell how awful it was, for every yell sent a pain like barbed wire lightnin' forkin' an' knifin' all ways through her. No one heard her, for the blacksmith was shoein' a mule on one side of her an' Gran'ma Mullins an' Lucy was discussin' Hiram on the other. You know what a mule is to shoe, Mrs. Lathrop, an' you know what Gran'ma Mullins an' Lucy is when they take to discussin' Hiram. I'll take my Bible oath as when Gran'ma Mullins an' Lucy gets to discussin' Hiram they couldn't hear no steam penelope out of a circus, not if it was settin' full tilt right on their very own door-mat. So poor Mrs. Macy laid there an' hollered till Mrs. Sweet came for the cullender.

"Mrs. Sweet says, the shock she got when she opened the door an' see Mrs. Macy with the carpet on her was enough to upset anybody.

"She says she thought at first as Mrs. Macy was tryin' to take up her carpet by crawlin' under it an' makin' the tacks come out that way. But then she see as her face was up an' of course no Christian'd ever crawl under no carpet with her face up. So she asked her what was the matter, an' Mrs. Macy told her frank an' open as she did n't know what was the matter. Then Mrs. Sweet went to work an' tried to set her up. An' she says the way she yelled!

"She says she jerked her by the arms, an' by the legs, an' even by the head, an' her howls only grew awfuler an' awfuler. Mrs. Macy says as her agonies was terrible every time she slid a little along, an' she just begged an' prayed for her to go an' get young Dr. Brown. So finally Mrs. Sweet ran next door an' separated Lucy an' Gran'ma Mullins an' Lucy went for young Dr. Brown an' Gran'ma Mullins an' Mrs. Sweet went for Mrs. Macy. Oh, my, but their story is as they jerked hard then, for they wanted her to be respectable in bed afore he came, but it was no use an' he bounced in an' fell over Mrs. Macy an' the carpet afore his eyes got used to where he was. They had to help him up an' then he had to go in the kitchen an' disinfect his bump afore he could take a look at Mrs. Macy. But seems he got around to her at last an' felt her pulse an' then as he'd forgot his kinetoscope he just pounded her softly all over with the tack-hammer, but he did n't find out nothin' that way for she yelled wherever he hit her. He said then as he'd like to turn X-rays through her, only as there is n't no cellar under her house just there there'd be no way to get a picture of the other side of what was the matter with her.

"So he said she must be got up, an' although she howled as she could n't be, he had Lucy an' Hiram an' the blacksmith's crowbar an' the blacksmith, an' it was plain as she'd have to come whether nor no. Mrs. Sweet says it was surely a sight to see. They put the crowbar across a footstool, an' Hiram jerked on the other side at the same time, an' with a yell like Judgment Day they sat her up.

"An' what do you think, Mrs. Lathrop? What do you think? There was a tack stickin' square in the middle of her back!

"Oh, my, but young Dr. Brown was awful mad! Mr. Kimball says he guesses he's got suthin' out of somebody now as he won't care to preserve in alcohol for a ornament to his mantelpiece. Hiram is mad, too, for he was goin' over to Meadville to fan a baseball team this afternoon an' he says Mrs. Macy has used up all his fannin' muscle. An' Lucy's mad 'cause she says she was way ahead of Gran'ma Mullins in what they were talkin' about an' now she's forgotten what that was. But Gran'ma Mullins was maddest of all when she found out about the duck, 'cause it seems as Drusilla Cobb's husband was a relation of hers an' as a consequence she never could bear Drusilla, so I said I'd take the duck."

"What—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"I shall fat him an' eat him."

"An' what—" asked Mrs. Lathrop, further.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you that: Mrs. Macy hunted up the magazine an' looked 'em up an' for a fact it was Kulosis after all. As soon as she see it she remembered the four noses an' all, but she says she was too done up to go any further at the minister just then."

"Is—" asked Mrs. Lathrop, finally.

"I don't know, an' I don't care anyhow, an' I ain't goin' to catch no spider for the sake of findin' out. He'll eat just as well as she will, I reckon, an' if I have any doubts, my ways of settlin' 'em 'll be by parboilin' instead of spiders."

So saying Susan rose, sought her duck, and departed.



CHAPTER XIII

MONOTONY OF MINISTERIAL MONOLOGUES

Mrs. Lathrop never went to church. She had relinquished church when she had given up all other social joys that called for motive power beyond the limits of her own fence.

Elijah rarely ever went to church. The getting the paper out Friday for Saturday delivery wore on him so that he nearly always slept until noon on Sunday.

So Susan went alone week after week, just as she had been going alone for years and years and years. She always wore a black dress to church, her mother's cashmere shawl, and a bonnet of peculiar shape which had no strings and fitted closely around her head. She always took about an hour and a half to get home from church, although it was barely ten minutes' walk, and she always went in Mrs. Lathrop's gate instead of her own when she did get home. Mrs. Lathrop knew almost to the minute when to expect her and was invariably seated ready and waiting.

One late May day when Susan returned from church she followed her usual course of Sunday observances by going straight to her neighbor's and sitting down hard on one of the latter's kitchen chairs, but she differed from her usual course by her expression, which—usually bland and fairly contented with the world in general—was this morning most bitterly set and firmly assured in displeasure.

"Well," said Mrs. Lathrop, somewhat alarmed but attempting to speak pleasantly, "was—"

"No," said Susan, "I should say not." Then she unpinned her hat and ran the pin through the crown with a vicious directness that bore out her words to the full.

"Susan!" said Mrs. Lathrop, appalled, "why—"

"Well, I can't help it if you are," said Miss Clegg, "you don't have to go Sunday after Sunday an' listen like I do. If you did, an' if you had what you ain't got an' that's some spirit, Mrs. Lathrop, you'd be rammin' around with a hat-pin yourself an' understand my feelin's when I say as there ain't a spot in the Bible as I ain't been over fully as often as the minister nor a place where he can open it that I can't tell just what he'll say about it afore he's done settlin' his tie an' clearin' his throat. I'm so tired of that tie-settlin' an' throat-clearin' business I don't know what to do an' then to-day it was the Sermon on the Mount an' he said as he had a new thought to develop out of the mount for us an' the new thought was as life was a mount with us all climbin' up it an' sure to come out on top with the Sermon if our legs held out. It's this new idea of new thoughts as he's got hold of as puts me so out of all patience I don't know what to do; if they was really new I'd revel to listen to 'em, but they're as old as the hills an' I feel like I was offered somethin' to cut my teeth on whenever I hear him beginnin' with a fresh old one. The other day I met him down in the square an' he stopped me short an' told me to my face as the world was gettin' full o' new thoughts, an' that a star as he see the night afore had given him one as he was intendin' to work up for Christmas. Well, Mrs. Lathrop, what do you think that particular new thought was? What do you think? It was as God was back o' the stars! My lands, I felt like givin' him a punch with my parasol an' I'd of done it too only I'd left my parasol at home an' had n't nothin' with me but a basket o' currants. I told him though as the idea o' God an' the stars bein' anyways new was surely most new to me, an' then I went on to say as Rachel Rebecca had said she'd come an' pick berries for me Monday an' seein' as Tuesday was lettin' its sun down pretty fast I could only hope as some other new thought had n't run off with her, too.

"It's this way, Mrs. Lathrop, I don't get much fun out o' church anyway, for I'm on red-hot porcupines the whole time I'm there thinkin' what I could be doin' at home if I was at home, an' wonderin' whether Elijah is in bed or whether he's up an' about. I don't know a more awful feelin' than the feelin' that you're chained helpless in a church while the man in your house is up an' about your house. Men were n't meant to be about houses an' I always liked father because he never was about, but Elijah is of a inquirin' disposition an' he inquires more Sundays than any other time. The idea as he's wanderin' around just carelessly lookin' into everythin' as ain't locked upsets me for listenin' to the minister anyway, but lately my patience has been up on its hind legs in church clawin' an' yowlin' more 'n ever, for it seems as if the minister gets tamer an' tamer faster an' faster as time rolls on, an' between not likin' to hear him an' bein' half mad to get back to Elijah I'm beginnin' to wish as God in His infinite mercy had let me be somethin' besides a Christian. I don't know what I'd be if I was n't a Christian, but my own view o' this idea o' free-trade in religion as is takin' so many folks nowadays is as it all comes from most anybody with common sense jus' naturally knowin' more than any minister as always has his house an' his potatoes for nothin' ever can possibly get a chance to learn; an' when folks realize as they know more than the minister they ain't apt to like to waste the time as they might be learnin' more yet, sittin' an' listenin' to him tag along behind what they know already. A minister is kind o' like a horse in blinders or a cow as wears a yoke to keep her from jumpin', anyway—he feels as he can't launch out even if he wants to an' so he never does, but my idea would be to give 'em a little rope an' let 'em be a little more interestin'. Here's two hours a week as we sit still an' might be learnin' things much more useful than as Job was patient an' Joseph was n't. I'm tired of Job an' Joseph anyhow. I've heard about 'em both ever since I was old enough to know about either, an' long afore I was old enough to know about Joseph. I was talkin' about this at the sewin' society yesterday an' they all agreed with me. Mrs. Macy said as her feelin' was as she'd been wantin' to go to sleep in church for the last five years, an' she was beginnin' to have it so strong as she did n't care who knowed it.

"Was the minister's—" asked Mrs. Lathrop, with vivid curiosity.

"No, 'cause Brunhilde Susan thought a moth ball was a lemon drop an' dealt with it a'cordin', an' she was too used up by the bein' up all night to even so much as overcast a plain seam; but the rest was there an' we all aired ourselves inside out, I can assure you, an' was more 'n glad as she was n't there, so we could do it, too.

"The general talk was as the minister 'd do well to quit talkin' about Heaven for a while an' come down to earth. We all know about Heaven, 'cause if you don't all you have to do is to tip back your head an' there it is day an' night for you to look at as long as your neck don't ache, but what we don't know about is a lot of what's right around us. Mrs. Macy says as her view would be to take the Bible for the motto an' then apply it right to us here to-day, an' tell us how to understand what's goin' on in the world by its light. She says David an' Goliath could of been Japan an' Russia with Admiral Togo for the sling shot, an' we all felt to agree as there was a idea as no minister ought to mind ownin', for Mrs. Sweet told me comin' home as she never would of give Mrs. Macy credit for thinkin' nothin' out so closely as that. Every one was interested right off an' you ought to of been there to see how the idea took! Gran'ma Mullins said as she'd always wanted to know what a soft-nosed bullet looked like an' how their other features felt, an' a sermon like that could n't but give us all a new understandin' of a war. Then they all got to thinkin' out the thing, an' Mrs. Sweet said as Jezabel bein' throwed to the dogs could apply to that new rule in the city as makes you have to go around with your dog's nose in a lattice an' yourself tied to the dog; she said when she went up there the other day she felt like nothin' but a fool out with her brother an' him bein' jerked here an' there a'cordin' as the dog's feelin's moved him, an' the dog's lattice half the time over one of his two ears so he looked more drunk than sober all day. Of course we ain't got no such rules about dogs' noses here, but no one set down on Mrs. Sweet, because it showed she took an interest; Mrs. Brown said when she was done as she should think as the sun standin' still on Absalom three days could be worked up into havin' our streets lit all night, for she says when young Dr. Brown is out late, Amelia's so awful nervous she has to sit by her an' hold her hand, an' young Dr. Brown always says it takes him a good hour longer than it ought to gettin' home, on a'count o' bein' so afraid o' runnin' into trees in the dark."

"They say—" said Mrs. Lathrop, thoughtfully.

"Yes, but you could n't make his mother believe it," said Susan; "she thinks he eats peppermint comin' home nights just because he likes to eat peppermint comin' home nights. Mothers is all like that. You know yourself how you was with Jathrop. That'd make another nice talk, about how all sons was n't prodigals, some bein' obliged by fate to be the calf instead. I must say, Mrs. Lathrop, as the more I think of this new idea the more took I am with it. The Bible would be most like a new book if we took it that way an' Sunday would be a day to look forward to all the week long, just to see what the minister was goin' to say about what next. The sewin' society was all in favor of the idea an' now if the square only takes it up with a real mother's heart I don't see why we should n't get some profit out o' keepin' a minister yet. My notion is as the minister might just as well learn to be a lesson to us as to be so dead satisfied with only bein' a trial to us. We've got trials enough, Lord knows, an' just now what with the weather an' the cleanin' house no one wants to go to church to hear about things as they all know anyhow."

"I wonder—" said Mrs. Lathrop, thoughtfully.

"No, I would n't look for that," said Susan; "every one has their limits an' I would n't expect no man to jump over his own outside. I should n't ever look for the minister to be really equal to workin' up somethin' real spicy as would fill the house out o' Uriah the Hittite or Abigail hangin' upside down to the tree, but I can't well see why he could n't teach us whether well water's healthy or not by quotin' from Rebecca, an' when the time comes he could surely get a real nice Thanksgivin' text out o' John the Baptist's head on the platter."

"Well—" said Mrs. Lathrop, slowly.

"I'm goin' home to Elijah now," said Susan, "an' I shall talk the matter up with him. Elijah's awful funny, Mrs. Lathrop. However much he roams around while I'm in church he always hops back in bed an' manages to be sound asleep when it's time for me to come home. An' I will say this for him, an' that is as with all his pryin' an' meddlin' he's clever enough to get things back so I can never see no traces of what he's been at. If I was n't no sharper than most others, I'd think as he never had stirred out of bed while I was gone—but I am sharper than others an' it'll take a sharper young man than Elijah to make me suppose as all is gold that glitters or that a man left all alone in a house don't take that time to find out what he's alone in the midst of."



CHAPTER XIV

ADVISABILITY OF NEWSPAPER EXPOSURES

"Well, I don't know I'm sure what I am goin' to do with Elijah," said Susan Clegg to her friend one evening. "He's just as restless in his ideas as he is in bed, an' he's not content in bed without untuckin' everythin' at the foot. I hate a bed as is kicked out at the foot an' I hate a man as makes a woman have to put the whole bed together again new every mornin'. I'm sure I don't see no good to come of kickin' nights an' I've talked to Elijah about layin' still till I should think he could n't but see how right I am an' how wrong he is, but still he goes right on kickin', an' now he's got it into his head as he's got to turn the town topsy-turvy by findin' out suthin' wrong as we'd rather not know, an' makin' us very uncomfortable by knowin' it, an' knowin' as now we know it we've got to do suthin' about it, an' that seems to make him kick more than ever."

"Dear—" ejaculated Mrs. Lathrop.

"He set on the porch for an hour with me last night," Susan went on, "tryin' to think o' suthin' as he could expose in the paper. He says a paper ain't nothin' nowadays without it's exposin' suthin, an' a town ain't fit to have a paper if it ain't got nothin' to expose in it. He says no closet without some skeleton, an' he should think we'd have ours, an' in the end he talked so much that I could n't but feel for a little as maybe he was right an' as we was behind the times, for when you come to think it over, Mrs. Lathrop, nothin' ever does happen here as had n't ought to happen—not since Mr. Shores' wife run off with his clerk, an' that wa'n't no great happenin', for they could n't stand sittin' on the piazza much longer—every one could see that—an' Mrs. Shores wasn't one to have any man but her own husband comin' in an' out o' the house at all hours, an' so if she'd got to the point where she wanted a man as wasn't her own husband comin' in an' out, she just had to up an' run away with him, an' I never have been one to say no ill of her, for I look on Mr. Shores with a cool an' even eye, an' lookin' on Mr. Shores with a cool an' even eye leads me to fully an' freely approve of every thin' as his wife ever done."

"I—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Yes, I know it, an' that's why I speak as I do. But Elijah seems to think as suthin' else ought to of happened since then, an' he asked me if I didn't know of nothin' as was bein' tried to be covered up as he could uncover, an' I really did try to think of suthin' but nobody ever covers up nothin' here. Nobody could if they wanted to. Everybody knows everythin' about everybody. We all know about Lucy an' Hiram, 'cause Gran'ma Mullins is always tellin' her side an' Hiram's side, an' Lucy is always tellin' her side an' Hiram's other side. Gran'ma Mullins says when she sees a man like Hiram havin' to devote his strength an' his Sundays to catchin' water-bugs, she most feels she's been a mother in vain, an' Lucy says when she realizes as she's married a man as can't be put to no better use Sundays than catchin' water-bugs, she ain't got no doubt at all as to what she's married. Lucy's gettin' very bitter about marriage; she says when she thinks as she may be picked out for a golden weddin' she feels like tyin' balloons to her feet an' goin' out an' standin' on her head in the crick. Elijah asked me if maybe she was n't in love with some one else as he could just notice in general kind o' terms, but I told him he did n't know what Lucy Dill was on men now as Hiram has got her eyes open. Why, Lucy don't believe no more in love a tall. Lucy says if she was rid of men an' left on a desert island alone, with one cow, so she could have eggs an' milk toast regular, she'd never watch for no ship, an' if a ship heaved up anywhere near, she'd heave down so quick that if any one on the ship had seen her they'd think they imagined her afore they'd get ready to go to her rescue. Elijah shook his head then, an' trailed off to Polly Allen; he said there must be thirty-five years between Polly an' the deacon, an' could n't suthin' be hinted at about them. That set me to wonderin', an' it's really very strange when you come to think of it, Mrs. Lathrop, how contented Polly is. I don't believe they've ever had a word. He does the cookin' an' washin' the same as he always did, an' lets her do anythin' else she pleases, an' they say she's always very obligin' about doin' it.

"So then Elijah crossed his legs the other way, an' asked if there was n't anythin' bigger as could be looked into, but every one knows Hiram is the biggest man anywhere around here, so that was no use. He asked then if we did n't have a poorhouse or a insane asylum or a slaughter-house or suthin' as he could show up in red ink. He said somebody must be doin' suthin' as they had n't ought to be doin' somewhere, an' it was both his virtue an' his business to print all about it. He says exposin' is the very life o' the newspaper business, an' you can't be nothin' nowadays without you expose. He seemed to feel very much put out about us not bein' able to be exposed, an' I could n't help a kind o' hurt feelin' as it was really so.

"But what can I do, Mrs. Lathrop, I did n't know of nothin'? We ain't got no place to do anythin' except in the square an' nobody never does nothin' without everybody knows that day or the next mornin' at the latest. I don't believe as anybody could have a secret with anybody in this town 'cause you'd know very well as if you did n't get 'round pretty quick an' tell it first the other one would be gettin' ahead o' you an' tellin' it before you. Of course I could see Elijah's drift all right. Them city papers has turned his head completely just as they do everybody else's when they first get a new idea. Elijah wants us to be eatin' bluing for blueberries an' cats for calves jus' so he can be the first to tell us about it, but there ain't a cat in town as ain't too well known for anybody to eat without knowin' it, an' as for bluing, if anybody can feed it to me for blueberries it's me as is the fool an' them as is n't, an' that's my views.

"I'll tell you what it is, Mrs. Lathrop, I ain't got no great sympathy with this new idea o' keepin' us all stirred up over how awful things is. I won't say as I approved when that man in Chicago made sausage out o' his wife 'cause he was tired o' her, but I will say as if Lucy see her chance at Hiram that way I ain't sure as she could restrain herself. Hiram's perfectly healthy an' could be depended upon not to disagree with no one in sausage to anythin' like the extent Lucy disagrees with him, an' Gran'ma Mullins is so tired of hearin' 'em quarrel that I ain't prepared to say as she'd rebel at anythin' as sent Lucy back to her father.

"Elijah went on to tell me a lot about insurance an' railroads, but all about insurance an' railroads is 'way beyond my interest an' 'way beyond the understandin' of every one else here, an' nobody's goin' to remember a thing about any of it a year from now anyhow. That's the trouble with this country,—they don't remember nothin',—everybody forgets everythin' before the month is out. Most of the people never thinks o' San Francisco now, an' as for that fire they had in Baltimore, it's as dead as Moses.

"That's the advantage the rest of the country has over us when it comes to exposin'. They can expose an' expose, an' all the folks who read about it forget an' forget, but here in this community it's different an' you can't count on our forgettin' things a tall, an' if Elijah was turned loose I'll venture to say every last one o' them papers would be saved until doomsday. I know that an' knowin' that I very carefully restrain him. There's a many as knows as Mr. Kimball's dried apples is often very under rate, an' a many others as knows whose dead cat that was as Mrs. Sweet had to bury after vowin' she would n't till she smelt as she'd got to. Every last one of us knows what Dr. Brown gets at the drug store when he asks for what he usually gets an' there's a good many as thinks as Mrs. Macy goes to Meadville more on a'count o' Dr. Carter than to see her cousin, Mrs. Lupey. But I was n't goin' to set Elijah swimmin' in any such deep water. Elijah is a young man an' the age to go wrong easy, an' when that age see how easy it is to go wrong they're nothin' but foolish if they waste another second goin' right, so if Elijah wants to go to exposin' he'll have to get his stuff from some one else beside me."

"You—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"No, I don't say that," said Miss Clegg, "I'm only human after all an' I can't in conscience deny as I should like to see them as I don't like showed up just as much as any other man as is makin' a business of showin' up his neighbors, likes it. But I know I've got to live here an' it'd be very poor livin' for me after I'd aired myself by way of Elijah. There's a great difference between knowin' things all by yourself an' readin' 'em in the paper, an' I know as that dead cat would cause a great deal o' hard feelin' in print, while buried by Mrs. Sweet it only helps her garden grow. So I shall keep on talkin' as usual, but I shall hold Elijah out o' print an' so keep the country safe."

"I—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Oh, the paper'll do just as well," said Susan; "he's goin' to print one sheet as comes all printed from the city every week an' he says that'll put new zest in the thing. It'll be a great deal better to get the zest that way than to get it exposin'. Zest is suthin' as is always safest a good ways off. Elijah saw that, too, afore he got done last night, for in his hitchin' about he hitched over the edge o' the piazza in the end."

"Did—" cried Mrs. Lathrop.

"Well, no," said Miss Clegg. "But he tore a lot of things an' smashed a rose bush, but I did n't care about that. I just told him to leave 'em on a chair this mornin' an' I'd sew 'em all up again, an' I done it, an' as to the rose bush, I'll have him get another an' give it to me for a present the next time I go to the city to pick it out myself."



CHAPTER XV

THE TRIAL OF A SICK MAN IN THE HOUSE

"Well, where—" began Mrs. Lathrop in a tone of real pleasure at seeing Miss Clegg come into her kitchen one afternoon a few days after.

Miss Clegg dropped into a chair.

"Well, I have got trouble now!" she announced abruptly, "Elijah's sick!"

"Eli—" cried Mrs. Lathrop.

"—Jah," finished Susan. "Yes, Mrs. Lathrop, Elijah's sick! He was sick all night an' all this mornin', an' I may in confidence remark as I hope this'll be a lesson to him to never do it again, for I've got a feelin' in my legs as 'll bear me out in lettin' him or any one else die afore I'll ever work again like I've worked to-day an' last night."

"Why, what—"

"Did n't you see young Dr. Brown?"

"No, I—"

"Yes, I supposed so," said Susan, resignedly; "I know your ways, Mrs. Lathrop, an' I never look for any other ways in you. It's good as I don't, for if I did I'd be blind from lookin' an' not seein'. I know you, Mrs. Lathrop, an' I know your ways, an' I realize to the full how different they are from me an' my ways, but a friend is a friend an' what can't be endured has got to be cured, so I come to tell you about Elijah just the same as I do anythin' else as is easy heard."

"Is—" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"No, he is n't. That is, he was n't when I come out, but he had his pen an' said he was goin' to write a editorial sittin' up in bed. He can't get out of bed on a'count of the sheet, but 'Liza Em'ly's there if he wants anythin' so it don't matter if I do leave for a little while. She come an' offered an' I don't see why she should n't have a chance to get married the same as any other girl, so I set her in the next room an' told her not to go near him on no a'count, an' naturally there ain't nothin' as'll make 'em wilder to talk than for Elijah to feel he'd ought to be workin' on his editorial an' for 'Liza Em'ly to feel as he had n't ought to be spoke to. I don't say as I consider Elijah any great catch, but if 'Liza Em'ly can find any joy jumpin' at him with her mouth open I ain't one to deprive her of the hop. Elijah's a very fair young man as young men go, an' I think any girl as is willin' to do her nine-tenths can have a time tryin' to be happy with him. If she ain't happy long it won't be Elijah's fault for he's just as sure his wife 'll be happy as any other man is."

"But about—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Yes, that's what I come to tell you. He woke me last night, tappin' on my door, an' hollered as he had the appendicitis on both sides at once."

"On both—"

"That's what he said. Well, as soon as I got awake enough to know as I was n't asleep, I knowed he was wrong somehow an' I sat up in bed an' hollered back to him to take ten sips o' water, hold his breath while he counted fifteen, an' go back to bed. I was n't calculatin' to get up with no two-sided appendicitis in the middle o' no night if I could help it, an' I knowed anyhow as it was only some of them dried apples o' Mr. Kimball's as was maybe lodged here an' there in him an' no harm done if he'd only let me sleep.

"But, no sir, Elijah had no idea o' lettin' me sleep while he set up alone with his own two sides. There's suthin' about a man, Mrs. Lathrop, as 'll never let him suffer in silence if there's any woman to be woke up. A man can't be a hero unless a woman stands by barefooted with a candle, an' he feels a good deal easier groanin' if he can hear her sneezin' between times. So back come Elijah right off to say as I must be up an' doin' or he'd be dead afore dawn. I was so sound asleep I told him to set a mouse trap two times afore my senses come to me an' then when they did I was mad. I tell you I was good an' mad too. I put on my slippers an' father's duster as I always keep hangin' to my bedpost to slip on or dust with just as I feel to need it on or dustin', an' I went to Elijah. He was back layin' in bed done up in a sort o' ring o' rosy, groanin' an' takin' on an' openin' an' shuttin' his eyes like he thought he could make me feel pleased at bein' woke up. But I was n't goin' to feel pleased. I tell you, Mrs. Lathrop, a stitch in time saves nine, an' I hadn't no idea of encouragin' Elijah to wake me like that, not while there's maybe a chance of me havin' him to board more 'n the three months I promised. I saw as I was gettin' into the duster as all my comfort depended on how I acted right then an' there an' I was decided to be firm. I stood by the bed an' looked at him hard an' then I says to him, I says, 'Well, what did you wake me up for?' 'No one ever felt nothin' like this,' he says; 'I've got two appendixes an' I can feel another comin' in my back.' 'Elijah,' I said, 'don't talk nonsense. You've been an' woke me up an' now I'm woke up what do you want me to do?' I leaned over him as I said it an' let a little hot candle grease drip on his neck an' he give a yowl an' straightened out an' then give another yowl an' shut up again. 'I'll make you some ginger tea,' I says, 'an' put a mustard plaster wherever you like best,' I says, 'an' then I shall look to be let alone,' I says, an' so I went downstairs an' set to work. Well, Mrs. Lathrop, I made that tea an' I bet I made it strong; I put some red pepper in it, too, an' poured a little mucilage into the plaster, for I may in confidence remark as I didn't intend as Elijah should ever look forward to wakin' me up in the night again. Then I went upstairs an' he sit up an' took the whole of the cup at one gulp! You never see no one so satisfied with nothin' in all your life! He fell back like he was shot an' said, 'Scott, Scott, Scott,' until really I thought as he was ravin'. Then I said, 'Where do you want the plaster, Elijah?' an' he said, 'On my throat, I guess.' I says, 'No, Elijah, you've waked me up an' wakin' me up is nothin' to joke over. You put this plaster on an' go to sleep an' don't wake me up again unless you feel for more tea.' I spoke kind, but he could see as I felt firm an' I set the candle down an' went back to bed.

"Well, Mrs. Lathrop, what do you think,—what do you think? Seems as Elijah was so afraid o' burnin' himself in another place that he went an' put the sheet between him an' the plaster an' glued himself all together. This mornin' when he awoke up there he was with the sheet stuck firm to him an' I must say I was very far from pleased when he hollered to me an' I went in an' found him lookin' more like a kite than anythin' else an' not able to dress 'cause he could n't take off his sheet. 'Well, Elijah, you have done it now, I guess,' I says; 'I never see nothin' the beat o' this. If I have to send for young Dr. Brown to take that sheet off you, you'll be in the papers from the earthquake to Russia an' back again.' Well, that was all there was to do an' when 'Liza Em'ly come with the milk I had to ask her to go up to young Dr. Brown's an' ask him to kindly come as soon as he could an' amputate Elijah out o' bed. He come right after breakfast an' he had a time, I tell you! We worked with water an' we worked with hot water, we tried loosenin' the edges by jerkin' quick when Elijah was n't expectin', but it was all no use. Dr. Brown said he never see such a plaster, he said it'd be a fortune for mendin' china. Then we got the dish-pan an' tried layin' Elijah face down across it an' pilin' books on his back to keep the right place in front soakin', but even that didn't help. Dr. Brown said in the end as he thought the only way maybe would be to do all the corners of the sheet up in a paper an' let Elijah carry it hugged tight to him an' wear father's duster down to the crick an' sit in it till he just slowly come loose. But Elijah did n't want to go bathin' in a duster an' I had a feelin' myself as if Meadville heard of it we'd surely be very much talked about, so finally Dr. Brown said he thought as he'd go home an' study up the case, an' I let him go for I had my own ideas as to how much he knew about what was makin' the trouble. So he went an' then I got dinner an' took some up to Elijah an' told him jus' what I thought of the whole performance. I talked kind but I talked firm an' I done a lot of good, for he said he did n't know but it would be better if he arranged to live with the Whites after the Fourth of July 'cause he had a feelin' as maybe he was a good deal of trouble to me. I told him I hadn't a mite of doubt as he was a good deal of trouble to me an' then Mrs. Macy come. I had to stop talkin' to him an' go down an' tell her what was the matter. She said right off as her idea would be to shut the windows, build a big fire an' make Elijah jus' work himself loose from the inside out. I told her about the mucilage though an' then she changed her views an' said I'd best fold the sheet neatly an' let him wear it till he wore it off next time he growed a new skin. Mrs. Macy says she's been told we keep sheddin' our skins the same as snakes an' that that's really what makes our clothes need washin' so often. She said the moral was plain as by the time the sheet'd need washin' Elijah would shed it anyhow. I see the p'int o' what she said an' I felt to agree, but while we was talkin' Mrs. Sweet come in an' her view was all different. She said as Elijah would find that sheet a most awful drag on him an' to her order o' thinkin' he'd ought to go down to where Mr. Kimball makes his dried apples an' steam loose in the vat. She says he can steam out very fast an' Mr. Kimball bein' his uncle 'll naturally let him sit in the vat for nothin'."

"What—" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"Well, I don't know," said Susan; "Lucy come in while we was sittin' there an' she said her view'd be for me just to take a firm hold of the sheet an' walk straight out of the room without a so much as 'by your leave' to Elijah, but I'd be afraid of tearin' the sheet if I did that way. An' then Gran'ma Mullins came an' her view was as I'd best sit an' sop Elijah with a sponge, which just shows why Hiram is so tore in two between such a mother an' such a wife's views."

"What—" asked Mrs. Lathrop again.

"Well, Elijah was writin' a editorial when I left an' 'Liza Em'ly was lookin' at him an' sighin' to talk an' I come over to tell you all about it."

Just here a piercing scream was heard from across the way.

"My—" ejaculated Mrs. Lathrop.

Susan sprang to her feet and ran to the door; as she opened it Eliza Emily was seen flying down the Clegg steps.

"What is it?" screamed Miss Clegg from Mrs. Lathrop's steps.

"Elijah dropped his pen," screamed Eliza Emily in reply, "an' when he reached for it he fell out o' bed an' tore loose."

"Did he tear the sheet any?"

"No, but he thinks he's tore himself."

Miss Clegg began to walk rapidly towards her own house.

"You can see I've got to go," she called back to her friend over her shoulder; "this is what it is to have a man livin' in your house, Mrs. Lathrop."



CHAPTER XVI

THE BEGINNING OF THE END

As June wore on it became more and more apparent that Elijah wore on Miss Clegg. She grew less and less mild towards his shortcomings and more and more severe as to the same.

"He's only—" Mrs. Lathrop attempted to explain to her.

"I don't care if he is," she replied, "it says in the Bible as a man is a man for all that an' I never was one to go against the Bible even if I ain't never felt in conscience called to say where Cain an' Abel got married, or what it was as the Jews lit out from Egypt on a'count of. I tell you what it is, Mrs. Lathrop, you've forgotten what it is to have a man around your house. There's somethin' just about the way a man eats an' sleeps as gets very aggravatin' to any woman after the new's off. I begin to see what men invented gettin' married for,—it was so they could kite around an' always be sure they had one woman safe chained up at home to do their cookin' an' washin'. Why, I ain't married to Elijah a tall, an' yet just havin' him in the house is gettin' me more an' more under his thumb every day that he stays with me. I feel to stay in the square an' I find myself hurryin' home 'cause he likes hot biscuits, an' I feel to turn his washstand around an' I leave it where it is for no better reason than as he likes it where it is. It's awful the way a man gets the upper hand of a woman! Lord knows I've no love for Elijah an' yet I'm caperin' upstairs an' downstairs when he ain't in a hurry an' tearin' my legs off scamperin' when he is, until I declare I feel mad at myself—I certainly do.

"An' now, there he is fallin' in love with 'Liza Em'ly, the last girl in the world as he'd ought to even dream of marryin', an' I talk to him an' talk to him, an' tell him so, an' tell him so, an' it don't make no more impression than when you rub a cat behind her ear."

"Why, a cat—" protested Mrs. Lathrop.

"Yes, an' so does Elijah. It just tickles him half to death to hear 'Liza Em'ly's mere name, an' he don't care what any one says about her just so long as it's about her.

"I see the minister down in the square to-day an' I told him my opinion of it all right to his face. But the minister didn't have no heart for 'Liza Em'ly—he's too used up discussin' what under the sun is to be done with Henry Ward Beecher. He says it's suthin' just awful about Henry Ward Beecher's feelin' for Emma Sweet, an' he told me frank an' open as personally it's been so terrible easy for him to get himself married an' get consequences that he can't find nothin' to point his index finger into Henry Ward Beecher with about this unrequited affection of his for Emma. He says as he never knowed as a man could have unrequited affection afore an' he really seems to feel more'n a little hurt over it. He says he can't well see how to restrain Henry Ward Beecher an' it's town talk as Henry Ward Beecher is far past restrainin' himself. I see Polly White afterward an' she says it's gospel truth as he's took indelible ink an' tattoed Emma all over himself, even places where he had to do it by guess or a mirror."

"My heavens!" ejaculated Mrs. Lathrop.

"Well, I should say so," said Susan, "an' will you only consider, Mrs. Lathrop, what Emma Sweet is to be tattoed all over any man like that! I like all the Sweets an' I like Emma, but it's only in reason as I should regard her with a impartial eye, an' no impartial eye lookin' her way could ever in reason deny as she don't appear likely to set no rivers afire. Emma's a nice girl, an' if her toes turned out an' her teeth turned in I don't say but what she might go along without bein' noticed in a crowd, but with them teeth an' toes all you can call her is good-hearted an' you know as well as I do as bein' called good-hearted is about the meanest thing as anybody can ever call anybody else. Folks in this world never call any one good-hearted unless they can't find nothin' else good to say of 'em, for it stands to reason as any sensible person'd rather have anythin' else about 'em good before their heart, for it's way inside an' largely guesswork what it is anyhow.

"They say as Mrs. Sweet says as even though Emma's her own child, still she can't see no reason for Henry Ward Beecher's March-haredness. She says Emma's best p'ints is her gettin' up early an' the way she puts her whole soul into washin' an' bread-kneadin', but she says Henry Ward Beecher ain't sensible enough to appreciate good p'ints like those. She says she's talked to Emma an' any one with half a eye can see as it ain't Emma as needs the talkin' to. She says Emma says as the way he hangs onto her goin' home from choir practice is enough to pull her patience all out of proportion. She says Emma says she'd as soon have a garter-snake seein' her home, an' doin' itself up in rings around her all the while, an' Mrs. Sweet says any one as has ever seen Emma seein' a garter-snake would consider Henry Ward Beecher's chances as very slim after a remark like that.

"Mr. Kimball says he wishes he had n't took him into his store just now; he says no young man ain't got a call to the grocery trade when he's in a state of heart as won't let him hear the call o' the man as owns the business, an' Mr. Kimball says when he fell into the vat where he was stirrin' up his dried apples, Henry Ward Beecher never heard one single holler as he gave—not one single solitary holler did that boy hear, an' Mr. Kimball 'most had a real city Turkish bath as a result. Why, he told me as he was in the vat for nigh on to a hour afore Elijah heard him from the other side, an' he says as a consequence he ain't very much took with havin' a clerk as is in love. He says too as only to see Henry Ward Beecher tryin' to pour through a funnel when any member o' the Sweet family is walkin' by on the other side of the square is enough to make him as owns what's bein' spilt wish as Henry Ward Beecher's father had gone unrequited too. Mrs. Macy come in while we was talkin' an' she said it was too bad as Emma wasn't smarter, 'cause if Emma was smarter Henry Ward Beecher'd jus' suit her. Mrs. Macy says the trouble is as Emma's too smart to be willin' to marry a fool an' not quite smart enough to be willin' to. Mrs. Macy says as Mr. Fisher was just such another an' Mrs. Fisher jumped for him like a duck at a bug."

"Did—" asked Mrs. Lathrop, interestedly.

"No," said Susan, "but Gran'ma Mullins did. Gran'ma Mullins is always nothin' but glad to have a chance to shake her head an' wipe her eyes over any one's love-makin'. She come in to wait a little 'cause Lucy wanted to dust an' she says she ain't got no strength to stay in the house while Lucy dusts; she says it lays Hiram out on the sofa every time regular an' sometimes it gives him the toothache. She says she an' Hiram never know when they 're dirty a'cordin' to Lucy's way o' thinkin' but, Heaven help 'em, they always know when they're clean a'cordin' to Lucy's idea of bein' clean. She says Lucy is that kind as takes one of her hairpins an' goes down on her knees an' scratches out the last bit of dirt as the Lord hath mercifully seen fit to allow to settle in His cracks. You can see as Gran'ma Mullins has suffered! She says it's a hard thing to bear, but Hiram grins an' she bears an' their pride helps 'em out.

"While we was talkin' Emma come by for the mail an' we see Henry Ward Beecher's face just hoverin' madly over the breakfast-food display in Mr. Kimball's window. Mr. Jilkins was in town buyin' a rake an' he waited to see what would happen. Judge Fitch was there too an' Polly White. We all had our eyes fixed on Henry Ward Beecher an' I will say, Mrs. Lathrop, as I never got so tired waitin' for nothin'."

"What—" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"Love affairs is terrible tame to lookers-on, I think. If they get over it your time's wasted an' if they don't get over it the time's wasted all around. My own opinion is as all love affairs is a very foolish kind o' business, for you never find real sensible folks havin' anythin' to do with 'em. But it was no use talkin' that to-day, so Henry Ward Beecher hung up there on the breakfast foods, an' we sat an' watched him like combination cats till long about five Johnny come by an' said as Mr. Sperrit had took Emma home with them to tea."

"Oh—" cried Mrs. Lathrop, impulsively.

"I don't know why not," said Susan, "my own opinion is as he's a idiot—"

"Mr. Sper—"

"No, Henry Ward Beecher. It's always struck me as a very strange thing as we had n't got one single idiot in this community an' I guess the real truth is as we've had one all the time an' did n't know him by sight. There's a idiot most everywhere till he gets the idea into his head to kill some one an' so gives others the idea as he's safer shut up, an' so it ain't surprisin' our havin' one too. I see Mrs. Brown on my way home an' I asked her if she did n't think as I was right. She said she would n't be surprised if it was true, an' it was very odd as she'd never thought o' it before, recollectin' her experience with him years ago when she had him that time as the minister went to the Sperrits' on his vacation. She went on to say then as to her order o' thinkin' Mr. an' Mrs. Sperrit come pretty close to bein' idiots themselves, for she says she don't know she's sure what ails 'em but they've been married years now an' is still goin' round as beamin' as two full moons. She says it ain't anythin' to talk of in public but actually to see 'em drivin' back from market sometimes most makes her wish as she was n't a widow, an' she says anythin' as'd make her sorry she's a widow had n't ought to be goin' round loose in a Christian town. She was very much in earnest an' Mrs. Fisher overtook us just then an' she said it all over again to her an' she said more, too—she said as the way she looks at him in church is all right an' really nothin' but a joy to look on afore marriage, but she don't consider it hardly decent afterwards for it's deludin' an' can't possibly be meant in earnest. She says she was married, an' her son is married, an' her father was married, too, an' you can't tell her that the way Mr. an' Mrs. Sperrit go on isn't suthin' pretty close to idiocy even if it ain't the whole thing."

"You—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Mrs. Fisher said," continued Susan, "as she thought maybe she got used to lookin' pleasant at him in all them years as she kept house for him afore he made up his mind to get married to her, an' so the habit kind of is on her an' what's dyed in the wool keeps on stickin' to Mr. Sperrit. She said as they do say as he married her 'cause he wanted her bedroom to hang up corn to dry in. She went on to say as for her part she always enjoyed seein' the Sperrits so happy for it done any one good to only look at 'em an' that she'd only be too happy to be a idiot herself if it'd do any human bein' good to look at her an' Mr. Fisher afterwards. She went on to say as she'd heard as the other night Mr. Sperrit drove two miles back in the rain 'cause he'd forgot a cake o' sapolio as she'd asked him to bring. I spoke up at that an' I said I did n't see nothin' very surprisin' in that, for I know if I asked any man as I was married to to bring home a cake o' sapolio I should most surely look to see the cake when he come home."

"I—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"I know; but you always spoiled him," said Susan. "Well, what was I sayin'? Oh, yes, Mrs. Brown said as Mrs. Macy was tellin' her the other day as they've got a idiot in Meadville—a real hereditary one; the doctors have all studied him an' it's a clear case right down from his great-grandfather."

"His great—" cried Mrs. Lathrop.

"Grandfather," said Susan. "Yes, Mrs. Lathrop, that is how it was, an' Mrs. Macy says it's really so, for she see the tombstones all but the mother's—hers ain't done yet. Seems the idiocy come from the great-grandfather's stoppin' on the train crossin' to pick up a frog 'cause he was runnin' for suthin' in connection with the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals."

"The frog!" cried Mrs. Lathrop.

"No, the great-grandfather. Seems he never stopped to consider as what'd kill a frog would be sure to hit him, an' Mrs. Macy says the doctors said as that was one very strong piece o' evidence against the family brains right at the start, but she says he really was smarter than they thought, for the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals paid for the funeral an' for the grandmother's, too."

"The grand—" cried Mrs. Lathrop.

"—Mother's," said Susan. "Yes, seems the railway track was their back fence an' she'd always begged an' prayed him at the top o' her voice not to go to town that way, but he would n't listen 'cause he was stone-deaf an' then besides like all that kind he always pretended not to hear what he did n't want to. But anyhow she was in the garden an' she see the train an' she tried to get to him, an' whether she broke a blood vessel yellin' or contracted heart disease hoppin' up an' down, anyway she fell over right then an' there an' it would have been copied in all the newspapers all over the country even if the mother—"

"The moth—" cried Mrs. Lathrop.

"Er," said Susan. "Yes, seems she heard the yell an' run to the window so quick she knocked the stick out as held it up an' it come down on her head. So, you see the idiocy come right straight down in the family of the idiot for three generations afore him."

"I ain't sure," said Mrs. Lathrop, thoughtfully.

"I ain't either," said Susan; "Mrs. Macy says, she was n't either. No one in Meadville never was."

"An' yet—" began Mrs. Lathrop.

"Oh, as to that," said Susan, "that's altogether another kind o' idiot. Henry Ward Beecher won't die of his love even if Emma won't have him, an' they'll both always be the better an' happier for not havin' one another, if they only knew it. It's mighty easy to love folks an' think how happy you'd always be with 'em as long as you don't marry 'em. It's marryin' 'em an' livin' in the house with 'em as shows you how hard it is to be really married. I thank Heaven I'm only livin' in the house with Elijah an' not married to him, so I can see my way ahead to gettin' rid of him in a little while now. You don't know how I ache to draw the curtains of his room an' pin up the bed an' pour the water out of his pitcher an' set a mouse trap in there an' just know it is n't goin' to be mussed up again."

Susan sighed deeply.

"How long—" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"I said three months," said Miss Clegg, "an' that takes it over the Fourth of July. My heavens alive, seems some days as if I could n't but just live, an' the meanest thing about a man is, he's so dead sure as he makes you happy, bein' around the house."



CHAPTER XVII

AN OLD-FASHIONED FOURTH

"Well, Elijah seems to have hit the nail on its foot instead of its head this time," said Miss Clegg to Mrs. Lathrop on the noon of the Sunday before the Fourth of July; "that editorial of his in this week's paper ain't suitin' any one a tall. I was down in the square yesterday an' everybody as was there was talkin' about it, an' to-day after church everybody was still talkin' about it, an' gettin' more mad all the time."

"What—" began Mrs. Lathrop.

"The one about the celebration as he printed in this week's paper," replied her friend; "they was for discussin' nothin' else after church to-day, an' one an' all is dead set against the way as Elijah says. Them as has bought their fireworks ain't pleased, of course, an' Mr. Kimball says as he considers that Elijah had ought to of consulted him afore he printed such a article in the hind part of a uncle's store that had just laid in a new supply of two pounds of punk alone. Mr. Kimball says as he'd planned a window display o' cannon crackers pointin' all ways out of a fort built o' his new dried apples an' now here's Elijah comin' out in Saturday's paper for an old-fashioned Fourth o' July without no firecrackers a tall. Mr. Kimball says he thinks Elijah ought to remember whose nephew he is an' show some family feelin'; he says punk is a thing as can never be worked off in no bargain lot of odds an' ends, an' he says his own Fourth o' July is spoiled now anyway just by the shock of the worry 'cause he can't be sure how folks is goin' to be affected until the effect is over, an' the Fourth o' July'll be over mighty quick this year. 'T ain't like they had most a week to calm down from Elijah's new idea—they ain't got but just Monday to decide an' buy their fireworks, too.

"Judge Fitch says he can't quite make out what Elijah meant by callin' for patriotic speeches; he says he's willin' to make a speech any day, but he says no one ever wants to stop poppin' long enough to listen to a speech on the Fourth o' July. He says too as it's very hard to get a still crowd that day 'cause people are afraid to get absorbed listenin' for fear suthin' may go off under 'em while they ain't keepin' watch. Mr. Dill said that was true, 'cause he had a personal experience that way in his own dog; he says that dog would of made a fine hunter only some one throwed a torpedo at him one Fourth o' July, when he was lookin' under a sidewalk, an' after that that dog almost had a fit if a sparrow chirped quick behind him. Mr. Dill said he tried to cure him by stuffin' cotton in his ears an' keepin' a cloth tied neatly around his head, but then he read in the paper about some deaf German as when he played the piano always listened with his teeth, an' he said that just made him empty the cotton right out of the dog an' give up.

"Mrs. Macy says what she wants to know is what's Elijah tryin' to get at anyhow. She says she always thought a barbecue was a kind of cake an' she did n't know white folks ever could lift their legs that high, even if they felt to want to. She says the idea of its bein' suthin' to eat in the woods is surely most new to her an' she ain't sure she wants to eat in the woods anyhow. She says there's always flies an' mosquitoes in the woods an' she's passed the age o' likin' to drop down anywhere, an' jump up any time, years ago. As for cookin' in the woods she says that part of Elijah's editorial is too much for every one. She says she never hear of roastin' a ox whole in a pit in her life; she says how is the ox to be got into the pit an' what's to cook him while he's in there an' when he's cooked how's he to be got out again to eat? She says she thinks Elijah has got a ox an' a clam mixed in his mind, an' a pit an' a pile. She says she knows they cook clams in piles on the seashore, 'cause she's heard so from people as has been there, an' besides she seen a picture of one once.

"Gran'ma Mullins came up an' she's most awful troubled over the ox, too. She says Hiram is got such a name for bein' strong now that she just knows as they'll expect him to put that ox into the pit when they're ready to cook him, an' then lift him out again when he's done. She says it's gettin' too terrible about Hiram, every time as somebody fat dies anywhere or there's a piano to move or a barn to get up on jack-screws they send right for Hiram to be one o' the pallbearers an' give him the heaviest corner. Why, she says the other day when that refrigerator came for Polly White they unloaded it right onto Hiram from the train, an' not a soul dreamed as there was shot packed in both sides of it to save rates, until poor Hiram set it down to put it on the other shoulder. She says too, as she can't well see how a ox can be roasted whole anyway; she says it'll be a awful job gettin' his hair singed off in the first place, an' she just knows they'll expect Hiram to hold him an' twirl him while he's singein'. Then, too, she says as the whole of a ox don't want to be roasted anyhow. The tongue has to be boiled an' the liver has to be sliced an' the calves' brains has to be breaded an' dipped in egg, an' after he's roasted an' Hiram has got him out o' the pit, who's to skin him then, she'd like to know, for you can't tell her as anybody can eat rawhide, even if it is cooked.

"Deacon White come up, an' he said he an' Polly would bring their own lunch an' their own pillow an' blanket an' hammock an' look on, 'cause Polly wanted to see the fun an' they were n't intendin' to have any fireworks anyhow. He said he was curious about the ox himself; he said he wondered where they'd get the ox, an' the pit, too, for that matter.

"He said he wanted it distinctly understood as he an' Polly'd bring their own lunch an' neither borrow nor lend. He said that rule would apply to the pillow an' the blanket an' the hammock, the same as to the lunch. There was some talk after he was gone on how terrible close he an' Polly are both gettin'. Seems kind of funny, to be so savin' when you ain't got nobody to save for, but the Whites an' Allens was always funny an' what's bred in the flesh always sticks the bones out somewhere, as we all know.

"The minister come up an' he said as it says in the Bible as when the ox is in the pit every one must join in an' help him out, so he shall do his part an' bring all his family with him. But he said he must remark as to his order of thinkin' a ox struck him as a most singular way to commemorate the day our forefathers fought an' bled over. He says he should have thought a service o' song an' a much to be desired donation towards cleanin' out his cistern would have been a more fittin' way to spend the glorious Fourth in, than fixin' a ox in a pit an' tryin' to bake him there. He says he don't think it can be done anyhow, he says a ox ain't no chestnut to stick in the ashes till he bounces out cooked o' his own accord.

"Mrs. Fisher says she sha'n't have nothin' to do with any of it; they're all goin' to the city, an' Mr. Fisher is goin' to a lecture on that Russian that his country wants to amalgamate for suthin' he's done; an' she an' John Bunyan is goin' to the Hippodrome. They want to see the girl turn upside down in the automobile an' Mrs. Fisher says she can hear about the ox when she comes back.

"Mrs. Brown says they sha'n't go, 'cause young Dr. Brown's afraid o' microbes in the woods. He's goin' to disinfect everythin' with that new smell he's invented the day before the Fourth, an' then they're goin' to have huckleberry biscuit an' watermelon an' just spend a quiet day waitin' for any accidents as may maybe come along. Mrs. Brown says young Dr. Brown is always hopin' for another railroad smash-up like that one that came while he was away studyin'. She says it always seems too bad it couldn't have come a year later, when he was just back with that handsome brand new set of doctor's knives an' forks as he got for a prize." Susan paused.

"Shall you—" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"No, I sha'n't. I ain't interested in the Fourth o' July. I never had nothin' to do with it in the beginnin' an' I ain't never had nothin' to do with it since. My own idea's always been as the Boston people was very foolish to go throwin' their tea overboard sooner'n buy stamps. We all buy stamps now an' no one thinks o' fussin' over it, an' I guess we do a lot other things as we'd never of had to do if we'd kept our tea an' our mouths shut in the beginnin'. They say tea is very cheap in England an' very good, too, an' heaven knows nothin' is cheap with us. Elijah says if it wasn't for his uncle he'd take a strong stand on a low tariff, but my goodness, it looks to me like he'd better not meddle with the tariff—he's set the town by the ears enough with his ox. I had a long talk with him last night about the whole thing. I don't know, I'm sure, how Elijah ever is goin' to get on without me, for I certainly do talk to him enough to keep him in ideas right straight along. I was very kind last night—but I was firm, too. In the end I broke him down completely an' he told me as he never meant it that way a tall. He says he only drew a picture o' what the Fourth o' July was in olden times. But this town ain't good on pictures, we take things right up by the handle an' deal with 'em a'cordin'."

"But—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Oh, of course not," said Susan, "but they can take him up by the tail an' horns, can't they?"



CHAPTER XVIII

CELEBRATING INDEPENDENCE DAY

"Well," said Miss Clegg to her friend the Sunday after the Fourth, "I'm thankful to say as the game is up to-morrow an' Elijah moves out of my house. We never had no Fourth o' July like this afore an' every one is prayin' as we'll never have such another again. It was really very peaceful in church this mornin' an' the collection was thirty-two cents, so that shows as folks is beginnin' to take heart again, but you could see as they was all nervous an' even the minister kept lookin' anxiously out of the window whenever he thought as he heard a noise. Mr. Weskin says he thinks a house catchin' fire from bein' disinfected comes under some head as lets the insurance get paid anyhow an' he says if not he'll take the case for the Browns on even halves for his heart is full o' sympathy for 'em. The Browns was in church themselves to-day, all but Amelia, an' I had the story from them straight for the first time. Young Dr. Brown says he can't understand any of it; he says the stuff must be stirred in a barrel for two hours without stoppin' an' he says he'll let any man breathe a suspicion as his mother stopped after he once set her at it! Mrs. Brown says she did n't stop neither, she says when she could n't move her arms any more for love or money, she stuck the broomstick through her belt an' sat on the edge o' the barrel an' kept the stuff stirrin' so. They poured in the acid right after breakfast, an' then Dr. Brown wanted the test to be thorough, so they put a live fly in each room, shut the doors between, shut all the windows, took the silver out on the lawn, an' then threw a match into the barrel an' run out the coal cellar door.

"Amelia is up at her father's an' ain't able to speak of it yet, but Mrs. Brown says her own view of it will always be as it was a explosion. She says as she can't see how you could call it anythin' else in the world. She says they was all sittin' in the arbor an' Amelia was just gettin' into the hammock an' Dr. Brown was just beginnin' on the King o' Spain's honeymoon in the paper, with a picture of a bullfight to illustrate it, when she heard such a noise as she never will forget again in all her life to come. She says her first thought was as Amelia had bu'st the hammock, for she says she tries to be kind to the bosom wife of her chosen son, but Amelia is surely most awful hard on anythin' as you get in an' out of, but then she heard the second noise, an' she says to her dyin' day she won't be able to swear to nothin' but as she thought it was San Francisco quakin' right in our very middle. Why, she says, she never for one second doubted as it was a earthquake. The canary-bird cage come sailin' out o' the dinin'-room window, all the chimneys went down with a crash, an' Amelia give one yell an' fainted. Mrs. Brown says she an' young Dr. Brown did n't really know which way to turn for a minute. They could n't seem to think whether their first duty was to shake Amelia or run around to the front of the house. The windows was blowin' out as fast as they could an' the most awful smellin' smoke you ever smelt was pourin' out after them! She said the smell was bad enough when she was stirrin' the stuff in the barrel, but exploded, it was just beyond all belief. In the end they left Amelia an' run 'round behind the house an' if there was n't all the kitchen stove lids comin' bangin' out at 'em an' all the feathers from the pillows just rainin' down like snow! They run aroun' to the side an' there was Amelia's sheets o' music all over the lawn an' jars o' pickles with the glass lids gone, an' jelly tumblers an' weddin' gold-rimmed china, an' in front an' on top of all else if the fire did n't bu'st out!

"Dr. Brown run for the fire engine then an' every one was at home gettin' ready for the picnic an' there wa'n't no one down town a tall. He was all of ten minutes findin' any one an' when he found him it was only Mr. Shores, an' Mrs. Brown says as gettin' out a fire engine with Mr. Shores an' your house burnin' is suthin' as she trusts will never be her lot again. She says Mr. Shores would n't lay hold o' the engine till after the cover was folded up neatly an' then he wanted to dust the wheels afore runnin' it out. Then after it was run out an' got to the house, if there wa'n't no hose, an' Dr. Brown had to run away back to the engine house for the hose an' while he was runnin' he met John Bunyan runnin' too an' John Bunyan told him as the hose was kept coiled up in the part as sticks up behind the engine like a can. So they run back together an' got it out an' run with it to the well an' Dr. Brown was so excited he dropped the hose in the well. Mrs. Brown says she was nigh too mad by this time with the house explodin' all over again every few minutes an' things as you never have around comin' sailin' out o' the windows right in people's faces when they was only there to be neighborly an' look on. She was runnin' back an' forth an' explainin' as it was n't for want o' stirrin', for she stirred it herself, when Sam Duruy come runnin' an' seems there's always another hose tied up under the engine an' he unhooked that an' John Bunyan built a fire in the hole for fire while they fixed the new hose in the cistern, but oh my, the house was too far gone to be saved by that time. So they pumped some on Amelia just to try the hose, an' then they helped pick up the things as was blowed out of the windows. Mrs. Brown says it was all most awful an' she knows from her son's face as he thinks it was all because she stopped stirrin' sometimes durin' the two hours an' she declares with tears as she never stopped stirrin' once—not once.

"Mrs. Fisher says the way people is sick from the smell shows as all the flies they put in the rooms must of surely been killed, so the experiment's a success in one way at least. Mrs. Fisher walked part way home with me an' we had a nice talk about the Browns. She says the Browns is most amusin' always in the ways they use flies; she says when young Dr. Brown was little, Mrs. Brown used to put a fly in the sugar-box when she went down to the square for things so she could tell when she come back whether he'd been at the sugar, an' so let the fly out. She says young Dr. Brown cured her o' that happy thought by takin' the fly out himself when she was down town one time an' puttin' a mad bee in instead. She says she guesses Dr. Brown has given her many a little lesson like that or he'd never be able to keep her stirrin' anythin' as smells for two hours."

"Where—" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"Well, the Fitches took Amelia an' her husband of course an' Mrs. Brown is goin' over to Meadville to-morrow. Mrs. Macy says maybe old Dr. Carter will marry her now as she ain't got any house to be attached to. I don't see why that would n't be a good end for Mrs. Brown, she can step right into Mrs. Carter's shoes—an' her clothes, too, for that matter, for he never give away a thing when she died. Yes, he did, too, though, she wanted her nieces to have a souvenir an' he give one the waist an' the other the skirt to the same dress, but Mrs. Fisher says what he would n't give away to no man for love or money was all her union underwear for winter. Seems she always wore the best an' finest, an' when she died Dr. Carter said he'd keep all them union suits an' wear 'em out himself."

"I—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"No, an' I would n't either," said Miss Clegg; "there would n't be no comfort marryin' a man whose first wife could n't call even her union suits her own after she died, not to my order of thinkin'."

"Was—" asked her friend.

"Oh, the picnic?" said Susan, "no, that was n't a success a tall. They spread the tablecloth over a flyin' ant nest in the first place an' Mrs. Macy says shad bones is nothin' to the pickin' out as they had to do while eatin' as a consequence. She says they very soon found out as they was under a wood-tick tree too, an' the children run into a burr-patch after dinner. The minister tried to teach the twins to fish an' the bank caved in with 'em all three, an' the minister had to go all the way home that way. Gran'ma Mullins got a gnat in her eye an' Hiram walked way back to town for a flaxseed to put in it to get the gnat out, an' crossin' the bridge he sneezed an' the flaxseed just disappeared completely, an' Lucy would n't let him go back again, so all she could do was to keep a-rubbin' till finally she rubbed it out. Mr. Dill climbed up a tree to show as he could still climb up a tree an' a branch broke an' tore him so bad he had to walk home with the minister,—I guess every one's glad the Fourth's over."

"How's—" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"Elijah? Oh, he went to town for the day. He says it's him for town when there 's anythin' goin' on in the country. He come back lookin' like he'd really enjoyed himself, but I was afraid he was goin' to have a fever at first he talked so queer in his sleep that night an' began all his sentences with 'Here's to—' an' then stopped in a most curious way. I was very much relieved when I see him come downstairs the next mornin', only his appetite ain't what it was yet."

"May—" suggested Mrs. Lathrop.

"Oh, I don't think so. There ain't any one for him to be in love with anyhow unless it's 'Liza Em'ly. He's really too smart for any girl in this community an' he ain't got a single picture among his things nor a letter as I don't know who wrote it. I thought at first as he used to call 'Annie' in his sleep the nights after we have dumplin's, but it ain't 'Annie' he says; it's 'Aunty,' an' heaven knows a aunt never broke no man's heart yet."

Susan rose to go home.

"I'm glad the Fourth's over, anyway," she said as she took up her parasol and mitts. "I think it's always a great strain on the country, but even if no one never likes it nor enjoys it, I suppose we must keep on havin' it with us year after year, for Elijah says as, as a nation, we're so proud o' bein' ahead o' everythin' an' everybody, that we'll die afore we'll go on one step further. He says what's one day o' terror a year beside the idea as we're free to do as we please. Gran'ma Mullins says all she can say is as she thanks God for every Fourth o' July as leaves Hiram whole, for he's the only apple she's got for her eye an' she'd go stark ravin' mad if anythin' was to tear him apart in the dream of his youth."

"Did—" asked Mrs. Lathrop, solicitously.

"Well, I can't stop to see if I did or did n't now," said Miss Clegg; "to-night's my last evenin' with Elijah an' I told him to be sure an' be home early. We'll try an' part pleasantly even though I should be mighty mad at him if I thought as he was half as glad to go as I am to get rid of him. I don't like the ways of a man in the house, Mrs. Lathrop,—they seem to act like they thought you enjoyed havin' 'em around. I can't see where they ever got the idea in the first place, but it certainly does seem to stick by 'em most wonderful."

"There—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

Susan turned her head.

"Yes, that's him comin'," she said; "well, now I must go, Mrs. Lathrop. I'll come over to-morrow an' tell you when I'm free of him, bag an' baggage."

"Yes," said Mrs. Lathrop, "I—"

"Yes, I do, too," said Miss Clegg, "but you see I said for three months an' the three months ain't up till to-morrow."



CHAPTER XIX

EXIT THE MAN OUT OF SUSAN CLEGG'S HOUSE

"Well, Mrs. Lathrop," said Miss Clegg, coming over the evening after, weary but triumphant, "Elijah is gone an' I tell you I'll never be too tender-hearted for my own good again. I won't say but what it was me an' nobody else as brought him down on my own head, but I must fully an' freely state as it's certainly been me an' no one else as has had to hold my own head up under him. An' he has been a load!

"Why, Mrs. Lathrop, do you know that man's stockin's alone has took me about one mornin' a week, an' as to buttons—well, I never knew a editor could bu'st 'em off so fast. An' as to puttin' away what he took off, or foldin' back things into the drawer where they belongs, why, a monkey swingin' upside down by his tail is busy carefully keepin' house compared to Elijah Doxey.

"I never see such a man afore! If Hiram's anythin' like him I don't blame Lucy for battin' him about as she does. I did n't suppose such ways could be lived with in oneself. An' that table where he wrote! Well! I tell you I've got it cleared off to-night an' my clean curtains folded off on it, an' no man never sets foot on it again, I can tell you that.

"I won't say as it wa'n't a little tryin' gettin' him off to-day an' I did feel to feel real sober while I was hangin' his mattress back to the rafters in the attic, but when I remembered as I'd never see them bedclothes kicked out at the foot again I cheered up amazin'. Mrs. Brown come in just afore supper an' she seemed to think it was some queer as I was n't goin' to miss Elijah, but I told her she did n't know me. 'Mrs. Brown,' I says, 'your son was a doctor an' you can't be expected to know what it is to board a editor, so once bit, soonest mended. She's mournin' over her burnt house yet, so she could n't really feel to sympathize with me, but I had n't time to stop an' mourn with her,—I was too busy packin' away Elijah's toilet set.

"He got a good deal of ink around the room, Mrs. Lathrop, an' I shall make Mr. Kimball give me a bottle of ink-remover free, seein' as he's his nephew; but I don't see as he done any other real damage. I looked the room over pretty sharp an' I can't find nothin' wrong with it. I shall burn a sulphur candle in there to-morrow an' then wash out the bureau drawers an' I guess then as the taste of Elijah'll be pretty well out of my mouth.

"I'm sure I don't know what we're comin' to as to men, Mrs. Lathrop, for I must say they seem more extra in the world every day. Most everythin' as they do the women is able to do better now, an' women is so willin' to be pleasant about it, too. Not as Elijah was n't pleasant—I never see a more pleasant young man, but he had a way of comin' in with muddy boots an' a smile on his face as makes me nothin' but glad as he's left my house an' gone to Polly White's."

"Won't you—" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"No, I won't,—not if I know myself. I ain't never been lonesome afore in my life an' I ain't goin' to begin now. Bein' lonesome is very fine for them as keeps a girl to do their work, but I have to slave all day long if there's anybody but me around the house, an' I don't like to slave. I guess Elijah's expectin' to be lonesome though, for he asked me if I'd mind his comin' up an' talkin' over the Personal column with me sometimes. I could see as he was more'n a little worried over how under the sun he was goin' to run the paper without me. As a matter of fact, Mrs. Lathrop, I've been the main stay of that paper right from the first. Not to speak o' boardin' the editor, I've supplied most o' the brains as run it. You know as I never am much of a talker, but I did try to keep Elijah posted as to how things was goin' on an' the feelin' as no matter what I said, it was him an' not me as would be blamed if there was trouble, always kept up my courage. There's a many nights as I've kept him at his work an' a many others as I've held him down to it. Elijah has n't been a easy young man to manage, I can tell you."

Susan stopped and sighed.

"I like to think how he's goin' to miss me now," she said, "I made him awful comfortable. Polly'll never do all the little things as I did. It's a great satisfaction when a man leaves your house, Mrs. Lathrop, to know as he'll be bound to wish himself back there many an' many time."

"What—" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"Oh, I'll find plenty to do," said Susan Clegg, "it ain't made a mite of difference in my life. I shall go on livin' just the same as ever. Nothin's changed for me just because for three months I had a man in the house. I ain't even altered my general views o' men any, for land knows Elijah wa'n't so different from the rest of them that he could teach me much as is new. I ain't never intended to get married anyway, so he ain't destroyed my ideals none, an' I told Mr. Kimball when I took him as I'd agree to keep him three months an' I would n't agree for love or money to keep him any longer, an' I've kept him for three months an' no love or money could of made me keep him a day longer."

"Did n't you—" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"Why, yes, I liked him," said Susan, "there were spots durin' the time when I felt to be real fond of him, but laws, that did n't make me want to have him around any more than I had to. But you know as well as I do that a woman can like a man very much an' still be happiest when she ain't got him on her hands to fuss with. I was n't built to fuss, Mrs. Lathrop, as you know to your cost, for if I had been I'd of been over here two days a week tidyin' up out of pure friendship, for the last twenty years. But no, I ain't like that—never was an' never will be—an' I ain't one to go pitchin' my life hither an' yon an' dancin' wildly first on one leg an' then the other from dawn to dusk for other people. Elijah's come an' Elijah's gone an' his mattress is hung back to the rafter in the attic an' his sulphur candle is all bought to burn to-morrow an' when that's over an' the smell's over too I shall look to settle down an' not have nothin' more to upset my days an' nights till your time comes, Mrs. Lathrop, an' I hope to goodness as it won't come in the night, for boardin' a editor has put me all at outs with night work."

"I—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Well, if you say so, I'll believe it," said Miss Clegg; "for I will say this for you, Mrs. Lathrop, an' that is as with all your faults you've never yet told me nothin' as I've found out from others afterwards was n't true."



A Masterpiece of Native Humor

SUSAN CLEGG AND HER

FRIEND MRS. LATHROP

By ANNE WARNER

Author of "A Woman's Will," etc.

With Frontispiece. 227 pages. 12mo. $1.00.

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.

No more original or quaint person than she has ever lived in fiction.—Newark Advertiser.

LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers, BOSTON

At all Booksellers'



Another Popular "Susan Clegg" Book

SUSAN CLEGG AND

HER NEIGHBORS' AFFAIRS

By ANNE WARNER

With frontispiece. 12mo. Cloth, $1.00

All the stories brim over with quaint humor, caustic sarcasm, and concealed contempt for male folk and matrimonial chains.—Philadelphia Ledger.

Anything more humorous than the "Susan Clegg" stories would be hard to find.—Jeannette L. Gilder, Editor of Putnam's Magazine.

The best work that Anne Warner has published. Miss Clegg has become an institution in the humor of America.—Baltimore Sun.

Her "Susan Clegg" stories, rich in pungent humor and extremely clever in their portrayal of quaint and amusing character, deserve a place among the choice specimens of American humorous literature—which means the best humorous literature in the world.—New York Times.

Sure to be welcomed by that large class of readers who found in "Susan Clegg and Her Friend Mrs. Lathrop" one of the most genuinely humorous books ever written by a woman on this side of the Atlantic.—St. Louis Globe-Democrat.

LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers

254 Washington Street. Boston



A New Story by the Author of "Susan Clegg"

THE REJUVENATION

OF AUNT MARY

By ANNE WARNER

Author of "Susan Clegg and Her Friend Mrs. Lathrop," "A Woman's Will," etc.

With four full page illustrations.

12mo. Decorated cloth, $1.50.

This very clever and original story by the creator of "Susan Clegg" will add materially to her reputation as a writer of popular fiction. "Aunt Mary" and her adventures in New York are simply delicious; and her nephew, Jack, and his college friends, who personally conduct her through the metropolis, are brimful of brightness and humor. A pretty love story runs through the book. "Aunt Mary's" magazine debut delighted thousands of readers, and the publication of the story in a more permanent form, with new chapters, and scenes, will increase her popularity.

Anne Warner takes her place in the circle of American woman humorists, who have achieved distinction so rapidly within recent years.—Brooklyn Eagle.

Anne Warner is not only a funmaker but adds to that the quality of sympathy with her characters.—Public Opinion.

LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers, BOSTON

At all Booksellers'



An International Love Comedy

A WOMAN'S WILL

By ANNE WARNER

Author of "Susan Clegg and Her Friend Mrs. Lathrop."

It is a relief to take up a volume so absolutely free from stressfulness. The love-making is passionate, the humor of much of the conversation is thoroughly delightful. The book is as refreshing a bit of fiction as one often finds; there is not a dull page in it.—Providence Journal.

It is bright, charming, and intense as it describes the wooing of a young American widow on the European Continent by a German musical genius.—San Francisco Chronicle.

A deliciously funny book.—Chicago Tribune.

There is a laugh on nearly every page.—New York Times.

Most decidedly an unusual story. The dialogue is nothing if not original, and the characters are very unique. There is something striking on every page of the book.—Newark Advertiser.

A more vivacious light novel could not be found.—Chicago Record-Herald.

Illustrated by I. H. Caliga. 360 pages. 12mo.

Decorated cloth, $1.50.

LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers, BOSTON

At all Booksellers'

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