d the Deacon. "And I'm
in an' out all day, between the barn an' the store."

This, indeed, was not a pleasant prospect, but Jane Tillman had faced
worse ones in her time.

"I'm no hand at any work outside the house," she observed, as if
reflecting. "I can truthfully say I'm a good cook, and have a great
faculty for making a little go a long ways." (She considered this a
master-stroke, and in fact it was; for the Deacon's mouth absolutely
watered at this apparently unconscious comprehension of his
disposition.) "But I'm no hand at any chores in the barn or shed," she
continued. "My first husband would never allow me to do that kind of
work."

"Perhaps I could git a boy to help out; I've been kind o' thinkin' o'
that lately. What wages would you expect if I paid a boy for the rough
work?" asked the Deacon tremulously. "Well, to tell the truth, I don't
quite fancy the idea of taking wages. Judge Dickinson wants me to go to
Alfred and housekeep for him, and I'd named twelve dollars a month. It's
good pay, and I haven't said 'No'; but my rent is small here, I'm my own
mistress, and I don't feel like giving up my privileges."

"Twelve dollars a month!" He had never thought of approaching that sum;
and he saw the heap of unwashed dishes growing day by day, and the cream
souring on the milk-pans. Suddenly an idea sprang full-born into the
Deacon's mind (Jed Morrill's "Old Driver" must have been close at
hand!). Would Jane Tillman marry him? No woman in the three villages
would be more obnoxious to his daughters; that in itself was a distinct
gain. She was a fine, robust figure of a woman in her early forties,
and he thought, after all, that the hollow-chested, spindle-shanked kind
were more ex-pensive to feed, on the whole, than their better-padded
sisters. He had never had any difficulty in managing wives, and thought
himself quite equal to one more bout, even at sixty-five, though he
had just the faintest suspicion that the high color on Mrs. Tillman's
prominent cheek-bones, the vigor shown in the coarse black hair and
handsome eyebrows, might make this task a little more difficult than his
previous ones. But this fear vanished almost as quickly as it appeared,
for he kept saying to himself: "A judge of the County Court wants her at
twelve dollars a month; hadn't I better bid high an' git settled?

"If you'd like to have a home o' your own 'thout payin' rent, you've
only got to say the word an' I'll make you Mis' Baxter,