Bessie quickly regained her temper, and as if suddenly recalling something to mind, began prattling to me in the most artless manner.  “Just think, sir,” said she, “what a disturbance there is in town this morning.”  And she laid her hand gently upon my arm.  “That queer man they call the major, and who is thought half fool and half philosopher, has got back; and there’s always such a time in town when he comes.  And, don’t you think, he has brought an audacious pig with him.  And the pig has gone to work (they say, sir, that he is possessed of a devil) and broke into poor Elder Boomer’s fowl yard, and eat up all his chickens.  And the brute does such queer things!  As for the poor elder, God knows he has a hard enough time to live.  He only gets five hundred dollars a year, and what the sewing circle does for him.  Only last week the circle gave him new dresses for all his family, and a nice three-ply carpet, which I made for him.  I forgot to tell you, too, that about a month since the circle gave him a new set of dimity bed curtains, and two marseilles quilts; and now they will have to make him up the loss of his chickens.  Just think of it, sir!  And he’s such a good old man, and preaches such good sermons.  I do wish, you could hear him once, sir.”  Here Bessie paused to take breath.  I assured her that he must be a fortunate man who had such lips to speak his praises.  At which she gave me a rogueish look, blushed, and tossed her head reprovingly.  Nothing, I replied, would give me so much pleasure, especially did she bear me company, as to attend the elder’s church; but, however strong my inclinations, they could not now be gratified, for the imperative nature of my mission left me but one or two days to tarry in Barnstable.  This caused her feelings some disquiet; but with great good sense she changed the subject of conversation, and commenced giving me a detailed account of the various kind acts performed by the sewing circle, of which she was a member, and which was chiefly made up of worthy ladies, who sought out the needy and relieved their wants, knowing that charity well bestowed is recorded in heaven.

The sewing circle exercised a sort of paternity over all cases of distress, and according to Bessie, never withheld relief, except when the object requiring it was given to strong drink.  In truth, it was held that something must be done for all persons in distress; and so many were the poor foreign families moving into town, that it was seldom the circle had not its hands full.  As to the provision prohibiting strong drink, it was found at times to work somewhat inconveniently, inasmuch as most of the objects of charity, (the clergy excepted,) liked a little; and being of foreign birth they could always find the means to get it, though they generally swore they had not wherewith to get a penny loaf.

“And what is worse,” resumed Bessie, recurring to the mischievous pig, “as if it wasn’t enough that the elder lost all his chickens, but some evil-minded people must go and get into the church, and put a coop full of poor little fowls on the pulpit.  O! there’s such an ado about it over town!”