At this moment Mrs. Hawkins looked up and saw Hiram Maxwell standing in the half-open doorway that led into the wood-shed.

“List’ners never hear any good of themselves,” remarked Mrs. Hawkins, as Hiram advanced into the room.

“I didn’t hear nothin’,” said Hiram.  “I’ve got too many things in my head to tell yer to mind any women’s talk,” he continued.

“What is it?” cried Mrs. Hawkins and Betsy simultaneously.

“Well, fust,” said Hiram, “early this mornin’ your sister Samanthy,” here he looked at Betsy, “came tearin’ down to Deacon Mason’s house and said as how Mis’ Hepsey Putnam was powerful bad, and she wanted me to run down to ’Zeke Pettengill’s and have him bring his sister right up to the house, ‘cause Mis’ Putnam wanted to see her afore she died, and the Deacon’s wife said as how I could go up with him and her, and so we druv up, and a little while ago your sister Samanthy,” here he looked at Betsy again, “asked me if I’d drive over and ask Mis’ Hawkins if you,” here he looked at Betsy for the third time, “could come up and stay with her this arternoon, for she thinks Mis’ Putnam is goin’ to die, and she don’t want to be left alone up in that big house.”

Betsy looked at Mrs. Hawkins inquiringly.

Mrs. Hawkins saw the glance and said, “I can’t spare yer till arter dinner, Betsy; say ’bout one o’clock.  You kin go and stay till the fust thing to-morrer mornin’.  I guess I kin manage supper alone.”

“Samanthy will be much obleeged, Mis’ Hawkins,” said Hiram.  “I’ll drive right back and tell her, and I’ll drive down agin about one o’clock arter Betsy.”

“List’ners get a good p’int now and then,” remarked Hiram to himself.  “Now I see what made Mandy so durned offish.  Wall, she won’t have any excuse in the future.  I guess I kin ask her a straight question when I git good and ready, Mother Hawkins.”  And he struck the horse such a violent blow with the whip that it required all his attention for the next few minutes to bring him down to a trot.  When he had done so he had reached his destination and his resentful feelings had subsided.

After Hiram had gone, Mrs. Hawkins and Betsy busied themselves getting dinner.  Happening to glance out of the window, the former exclaimed, “Why, there’s Jonas, and what on airth has he got in his hands?”

Betsy ran to the window and looked out.

“I guess it’s a head of lettuce,” said she.

At that moment the door opened and Jonas Hawkins entered, bearing a huge head of lettuce in his hand.

“Wall, Marthy,” said Mr. Hawkins, “how did the man from Bosting like his breakfast?  I kalkilated them fresh-laid eggs would suit him to a T.”

“He ain’t got up yet,” replied Mrs. Hawkins.

“Must have been putty tired,” continued Mr. Hawkins.  “I kinder envy him.  Do yer know, Marthy, if I wuz rich I wouldn’t ’git up any day till it wuz time to go to bed agin.”  And he laughed loudly at his own remark.