"Sammy hed to bring the old mare to the blacksmith shop to git
shod, an' John, my man, sez to me, 'Mother,' sez he, 'ye jist put on yer
duds, an' go along, too. It'll do ye a world o' good.' I hated to leave
John, poor soul, he's so poorly. But I couldn't resist the temptation, an'
so I come. My, that's good tea!" she ejaculated, leaning back in a big,
cosy chair. "Ain't that tumble about old Billy Fletcher, an' him sich a
man!"
"You've heard about his death, then?" Mrs. Larkins replied.
"Should think I hed. We stopped fer a minute at the store. I wanted to git
some calicer fer the girls, an' while I was thar I heerd Tom Flinders an'
Pete Robie talkin' about it. Why, it was awful! An' to think the dear old
parson was thar all alone! When Pete told me that I jist held up me hands
in horror. 'Him thar with that dyin' man!' sez I. 'Jist think of it!'
"'I guess he didn't mind it,' sez Si Farrington, who was awaitin' upon me.
'He likes jobs of that nater.' I don't know what in the world he meant. I
s'pose ye've heerd all about it, Mrs. Larkins?"
"Yes," came the somewhat slow reply. "I've heard too much.
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