“Why, there’s only one dip,” says Lurindy.

“Wal, thet’s better ’n none,” answered Miss Mimy.

I had enough of the old Adam left in me to be riled at her way of begging as much as ever I was; but I saw that Stephen was amused; he hadn’t ever happened to be round, when Aunt Mimy was at her tricks.

“No, Miss Ruggles,” continued she, “I thank the Lord I ha’n’t got a complainin’ sperrit, an’ hed jest ez lieves see by my neighbor’s dip ez my own, an’, mebbe ye ’ll say, a sight lieveser.”

And then Miss Mimy pulled out a stocking without beginning or end, and began to knit as fast as she could rattle, after she ’d fixed one needle in a chicken-bone, and pinned the chicken-bone to her side.

“Wal, Emerline,” says she, “I s’pose ye’ve got so grand down ter the mills, thet, w’at ‘ith yer looms an’ machines an’ tic-doloreux, ye won’t hev nothin’ ter say ter the old way uv knittin’ socks.”

“Does this look like it, Aunt Mimy?” says I, shaking my needles by way of answer.  “I’m going to finish this pair to-night.”

“Oh,” says she, “you be, be you?  Wal, ef I don’t e’en a’most vum it’s the same one! ef ye ha’n’t been nigh abeout a hull year a-knittin’ one pair uv socks!”

“How do you know they’re the same pair?” asked I.

“By a mark I see you sot in ’em ter the top, ef ye want ter know, afore I thought it would be hangin’ by the eyelids the rest uv yer days.  Wal, I never ’xpected ye’d be much help ter yer mother; ye’re tew fond uv hikin’ reound the village.”

“Indeed, Miss Mimy,” said Lurindy, kind of indignant, “she’s always been the greatest help to mother.”

“I don’t know how I should have made both ends meet this year, if it hadn’t been for her wages,” said mother.

Stephen was whittling Miss Mimy’s portrait on the end of a stick, and laughing.  I was provoked with mother and Lurindy for answering the thing, and was just going to speak up, when I caught Stephen’s eye, and thought better of it.  Pretty soon Aunt Mimy produced a bundle of herbs from her pocket, and laid them on the table.

“Oh, thank you, Aunt Jemimy,” says mother.  “Pennyroyal and catnip’s always acceptable.”

“Yes,” said Aunt Mimy.  “An’ I’ll take my pay in some uv yer dried apples.  Heow much does Fisher give fur socks, Miss Ruggles?” she asked, directly.

“Fifty cents and I find,—­fifteen and he finds.”

“An’ ye take yer pay out uv the store?  Varry reasonable.  I wuz thinkin’ uv tryin’ my han’ myself;—­business’s ruther dull, folks onkimmon well this fall.  Heow many strings yer gwine ter give me fur the yarbs?”

Then mother went up garret to get the apples and spread the herbs to dry, and Lurindy wanted some different needles, and went after her.  Stephen’d just heaped the fire, and the great blaze was tumbling up the chimney, and Miss Mimy lowered her head and looked over her great horn-bowed spectacles at me.