tongue, Polly Dawson, and don't be brazen, if you can
help it," rebuked Mrs. Peckaby. "I was so took aback for the minute,
that I couldn't neither stir nor speak," she resumed to Mrs. Duff. "But
when I found it was nothing but a old strayed wretch of a pounded cow, I
a'most dropped with the disappointment. So I thought I'd come back here
and take a rest. Where's Dan?"

"Dan's out," answered Mrs. Duff.

"Is he? I thought he might have took this parcel down to Sykes's, and
saved me the sight o' that pound again and the deceiver in it. It's just
my luck!"

"Dan's gone up to Verner's Pride," continued Mrs. Duff. "That fine
French madmizel, as rules there, come down for some trifles this
evening, and took him home with her to carry the parcel. It's time he
was back, though, and more nor time. 'Twasn't bigger, neither, nor a
farthing bun, but 'twas too big for _her_. Isn't it a-getting the season
for you to think of a new gownd, Mrs. Peckaby?" resumed Mother Duff,
returning to business. "I have got some beautiful winter stuffs in."

"I hope the only new gownd as I shall want till I gets to New Jerusalem,
is the purple one I've got prepared for it," replied Mrs. Peckaby. "I
don't think the journey's far off. I had a dream last night as I saw a
great crowd o' people dressed in white, a-coming out to meet me. I look
upon it as it's a token that I shall soon be there."

"I wouldn't go out to that there New Jerusalem if ten white donkeys
come to fetch me!" cried Polly Dawson, tossing her head with scorn. "It
_is_ a nice place, by all that I have heard! Them saints--"

A most appalling interruption. Snorting, moaning, sobbing, his breath
coming in gasps, his hair standing up on end, his eyes starting, and his
face ghastly, there burst in upon them Master Dan Duff. That he was in
the very height of terror, there could be no mistaking. To add to the
confusion, he flung his arms out as he came in, and his hand caught one
of the side panes of glass in the bow window and shattered it, the
pieces falling amongst the displayed wares. Dan leaped in, caught hold
of his mother with a spasmodic howl, and fell down on some bundles in a
corner of the small shop.

Mrs. Duff was dragged down with him. She soon extricated herself, and
stared at the boy in very astonishment. However inclined to play tricks
out of doors, Mr. Dan never ventured to play them, in. Polly Dawson
stared. Susan Peckaby, forgetting New Jerusalem for once, sprang off