when I'm
relieved is to call by there for Morris"--she lifted her weary eyes to
the picture as she spoke--"for Morris--and I want it understood that
it'll be a vacant house from the minute I depart. So, if there's any
other woman that's calculatin' to have any carryin's-on from them
windows--why, she'll be disappointed--she or they. The one obnoxious
person I thought was in it _wasn't_. My imagination was tempted of Satan
an' I was misled. So it must be sold for just what it is--just a
photographer's photograph. If it's a picture with a past, why, everybody
knows what that past is, and will respect it. I have tried to conquer
myself enough to bequeath it to the young lady I suspicioned, but human
nature is frail, an' I can't quite do it, although doubtless she would
like it as a souvenir. Maybe she'd find it a little too souvenirish to
suit my wifely taste, and yet--if a person is going to die----

"I suppose I might legate it to her, partly to recompense her for her
discretion in leaving that hotel when she did--an' partly for undue
suspicion----

"There's a few debts to be paid, but there's eggs an' things that'll pay
them, an' there's no need to have the hen settin' in the window showcase
any longer. It was a good advertisement, but I've often thought it
might be embarrassin' to her." She was growing weaker, but she roused
herself to amend:

"Better raffle the picture for a dollar a chance an' let the proceeds go
to my funeral--an' I want to be buried in the hotel-fire general grave,
commingled with him--an' what's left over after the debts are paid, I
bequeath to _her_--to make amends--an' if she don't care to come for it,
let every widow in town draw for it. But she'll come. 'Most any woman'll
take any trip, if it's paid for--But look!" she raised her eyes
excitedly toward the mantel, "Look! What's that he's wavin'? It
looks--oh yes, it is--it's our wings--two pairs--mine a little smaller.
I s'pose it'll be the same old story--I'll never be able to keep up--to
keep up with him--an' I've been so hap----

"Yes, Morris--I'm comin'----"

And she was gone--into a peaceful sleep from which she easily passed
just before dawn.

When all was well over, the sitting women rose with one accord and went
to the mantel, where one even lighted an extra candle more clearly to
scan the mysterious picture.

Finally one said:

"You may think I'm queer, but it does look different to me already!"

"So it does," said another