an'
has made trial of all the best patent medicines, an' could tell you
their merits as no one else could in this vicinity. She never was one
that depended on herbs alone, though she considered 'em extremely
useful in some cases. Everybody has their herb, as we know, but I'm
free to say that Sister Barsett sometimes done everything she could to
kill herself with such rovin' ways o' dosin'. She must see it now
she's gone an' can't stuff down no more invigorators." Sarah Ellen Dow
burst out suddenly with this, as if she could no longer contain her
honest opinion.

"There, there! you're all worked up," answered placid Mercy Crane,
looking more interested than ever.

"An' she was dreadful handy to talk religion to other folks, but I've
come to a realizin' sense that religion is somethin' besides opinions.
She an' Elder French has been mostly of one mind, but I don't know's
they've got hold of all the religion there is."

"Why, why, Sarah Ellen!" exclaimed Mrs. Crane, but there was still
something in her tone that urged the speaker to further expression of
her feelings. The good creature was much excited, her face was clouded
with disapproval.

"I ain't forgettin' nothin' about their good points either," she went
on in a more subdued tone, and suddenly stopped.

"Preachin' 'll be done away with soon or late,--preachin' o' Elder
French's kind," announced Mercy Crane, after waiting to see if her
guest did not mean to say anything more. "I should like to read 'em
out that verse another fashion: 'Be ye doers o' the word, not
preachers only,' would hit it about right; but there, it's easy for
all of us to talk. In my early days I used to like to get out to
meetin' regular, because sure as I didn't I had bad luck all the week.
I didn't feel pacified 'less I'd been half a day, but I was out all
day the Sabbath before Mr. Barlow died as he did. So you mean to say
that Sister Barsett's really gone?"

Mrs. Crane's tone changed to one of real concern, and her manner
indicated that she had put the preceding conversation behind her with
decision.

"She was herself to the last," instantly responded Miss Dow. "I see
her put out a thumb an' finger from under the spread an' pinch up a
fold of her sister Deckett's dress, to try an' see if 'twas all wool.
I thought 'twa'n't all wool, myself, an' I know it now by the way she
looked. She was a very knowin' person about materials; we shall miss
poor Mis' Barsett in many ways, she was al