her tone and manner. "Nex' mornin'," she went on,
"soon's I could I went over to the 'spensary an' ast fer the chief
doctor.

"'Doctor,' I sez, 'don't you buy corpses?'

"'Yes,' sez he, lookin' kinder funny.

"'Well,' sez I, 'I want to sell mine.'

"Then I tole him all 'bout it, an' ast him if he wouldn't take my
body after I was gone, an' give the money to the childern.

"'Will you put it in writin',' sez he.

"'Yes,' sez I, 'if you'll do the same.'

"So he drawed up the papers, an' we both signed, an' a man with a
spine in his back an' a lady with the rheumatiz witnessed it. So you
see," concluded Mrs. Wiggs, "I didn't die; you mark my words, it
ain't never no use puttin' up yer umbrell' till it rains!"

Lucy laughed. "Well, you certainly practise what you preach."

"Not always," said Mrs. Wiggs. "I'm 'feared I use' to worry some
over Mr. Wiggs. T'words the last he uster pretty often--" Here
Mrs. Wiggs tipped an imaginary bottle to her lips, and gave Lucy a
significant wink. Even in the strictest confidence, she could not
bear to speak of the weakness of the late lamented.

"But no matter how bad he done, he always tried to do better. Mr.
Dick sorter puts me in mind of him 'bout that."

"Who is Mr. Dick?"

"He's Mr. Bob's friend. Stays at his rooms sence he was took down."

"Is Mr. Redding sick?" asked Lucy, the color suddenly leaving her
face.

"No, it's Mr. Dick; he's consumpted. I clean up his room ever'
mornin' He coughs all the time, jes' like Mr. Wiggs done. Other day
he had a orful spell while I was there. I wanted to git him some
whisky, but he shuck his head. 'I'm on the water-cart,' sez he.
'Bob's drivin' it.' He ain't no fatter 'n a knittin'-needle, an'
weaker 'n water. You orter see him watch fer Mr. Bob! He sets by the
winder, all propped up with pillars, an' never tecks his eyes offen
that corner. An' when Mr. Bob comes in an' sets down by him an'
tells him what's goin' on, an' sorter fools with him a spell, looks
like he picks up right off. He ain't got no folks nor nothin'--jes,
Mr. Bob. He shorely does set store by him--jes' shows it
ever' way. That's right, too. I hold that it's wrong to keep
ever'thing bottled up inside you. Yer feelin's is like ras'berry
vineger: if you 're skeered to use 'em an' keep on savin' 'em, first
thing you know they 've done 'vaporated!"

Lucy's experience had proved the contrary, but she smiled bravely
back at Mrs. Wiggs, with a new tenderness in her