her sha'n't live in no such a place as this. He makes a sight o'
money. He's got out a patent, and they say he's just bought a new
house that cost him eleven thousand dollars. But old Mis' Wallis,
she's wonted here; and she was telling of me yesterday she was only
going to please John. He says he wants her up there, where she'll be
more comfortable, and see something."

"He means well," said another woman whom I did not know; "but folks
about here never thought no great of his judgment. He's put up some
splendid stones in the burying-lot to his father and his sister
Miranda that died. I used to go to school 'long of Miranda. She'd have
been pleased to go to Boston; she was that kind. But there! mother was
saying last night, what if his business took a turn, and he lost every
thing! Mother's took it dreadfully to heart; she and Mis' Wallis was
always mates as long ago as they can recollect."

It was evident that the old widow was both pitied and envied by her
friends on account of her bettered fortunes, and they came up to speak
to her with more or less seriousness, as befitted the occasion. She
looked at me with great curiosity, but Mrs. Downs told her who I was,
and I had a sudden instinct to say how sorry I was for her, but I was
afraid it might appear intrusive on so short an acquaintance. She was
a thin old soul who looked as if she had had a good deal of trouble in
her day, and as if she had been very poor and very anxious. "Yes,"
said she to some one who had come from a distance, "it does come hard
to go off. Home is home, and I seem to hate to sell off my things; but
I suppose they would look queer up to Boston. John Bays says I won't
have no idea of the house until I see it;" and she looked proud and
important for a minute, but, as some one brought an old chair out at
the door, her face fell again. "Oh, dear!" said she, "I should like to
keep that! it belonged to my mother. It's most wore out anyway. I
guess I'll let somebody keep it for me;" and she hurried off
despairingly to find her son, while we went into the house.

There is so little to interest the people who live on those quiet,
secluded farms, that an event of this kind gives great pleasure. I
know they have not done talking yet about the sale, of the bargains
that were made, or the goods that brought more than they were worth.
And then the women had the chance of going all about the house, and
committing every detail of its furnishings to their tena