, Mr. Wiggett," said the carpenter,
slowly; "none of us gets younger, do we, Ann?"

[Illustration: "YOU GET YOUNGER THAN EVER, MRS. PULLEN."]

"Some of us keeps young in our ways," said Mrs. Pullen, somewhat shortly.

"How old should you say Ann is now?" persisted the watchful Tidger.

Mr. Wiggett shook his head. "I should say she's about fifteen years
younger nor me," he said, slowly, "and I'm as lively as a cricket."

"She's fifty-five," said the carpenter.

"That makes you seventy, Wiggett," said Mr. Miller, pointedly. "I
thought you was more than that. You look it."

Mr. Wiggett coughed sourly. "I'm fifty-nine," he growled. "Nothing 'll
make me believe as Mrs. Pullen's fifty-five, nor anywhere near it."

"Ho!" said the carpenter, on his mettle--"ho! Why, my wife here was the
sixth child, and she---- He caught a gleam in the sixth child's eye, and
expressed her age with a cough. The others waited politely until he had
finished, and Mr. Tidger, noticing this, coughed again.

"And she--" prompted Mr. Miller, displaying a polite interest.

"She ain't so young as she was," said the carpenter.

"Cares of a family," said Mr. Wiggett, plumping boldly. "I always
thought Mrs. Pullen was younger than her."

"So did I," said Mr. Miller, "much younger."

Mr. Wiggett eyed him sharply. It was rather hard to have Miller hiding
his lack of invention by participating in his compliments and even
improving upon them. It was the way he dealt at market-listening to
other dealers' accounts of their wares, and adding to them for his own.

"I was noticing you the other day, ma'am," continued Mr. Wiggett. "I see
you going up the road with a step free and easy as a young girl's."

"She allus walks like that," said Mr. Miller, in a tone of surprised
reproof.

"It's in the family," said the carpenter, who had been uneasily watching
his wife's face.

"Both of you seem to notice a lot," said Mrs. Tidger; "much more than you
used to."

Mr. Tidger, who was of a nervous and sensitive disposition, coughed
again.

"You ought to take something for that cough," said Mr. Wiggett,
considerately.

"Gin and beer," said Mr. Miller, with the air of a specialist.

"Bed's the best thing for it," said Mrs. Tidger, whose temper was
beginning to show signs of getting out of hand.

Mr. Tidger rose and looked awkwardly at his visitors; Mr. Wiggett got up,
and pretending to notice the time, said he must be going, and looked at