id Ezekiel. "Help yourselves; we don't pass anything
round here. We put the things on the table and each one helps himself."

Mandy came in again, bringing a large pitcher of cider and some glasses,
which she placed upon the table.

While the three men were discussing their country evening lunch in
silence, an animated conversation was taking place in the kitchen, the
participants being Mandy, Mrs. Bridget Crowley, and Hiram, who always
dropped in during the evening to get his glass of cider, a luxury that
was not dispensed at Deacon Mason's.

"Well," said Mandy, "I think it's wasteful extravagance for you Irish
folks to spend so much money on carriages when one of your friends
happens to die. As you just said, when you lived in Boston you own up
you spent fourteen dollars in one month going to funerals, and you paid
a dollar a seat each time."

"I did that," said Mrs. Crowley, "and I earned every bit of it doing
washing, for Pat, bless his sowl, was out of work at the time."

"Just think of that!" said Mandy, turning to Hiram.

"Well, it can't be helped," said Mrs. Crowley, obstinately. "Shure and
if I don't go to folks' funerals they won't come to mine."

This was too much for Mandy and Hiram, and they began laughing, which so
incensed Mrs. Crowley that she trudged off to her little room in the
ell, which departure just suited Mandy and Hiram.

"Have you got any soft soap here in the kitchen?" asked Hiram.

"No," said Mandy, "I used the last this afternoon. I shall have to go
out in the shed to-morrow morning and get some."

"You wouldn't be likely to go out to-night for any?" asked Hiram.

"I guess not," said Mandy. "Why, there is rats out in that shed as big
as kittens. Did you want to use some?"

"No," said Hiram, "but I didn't want you to have any 'round handy, for I
am bound to tell you I heard Strout telling the minister's son that
Lindy Putnam writ a letter to Mr. Sawyer and mailed it at Mason's Corner
post office this mornin', and it was directed to Eastborough Centre, and
Strout said it looked as though they were keeping up correspondence. I
tell you that made 'Manuel Howe mad, for he's gone on Lindy Putnam
himself, and then Strout said that probably all the fellers in town
would have to put off getting married until that city chap had decided
which one of the girls he wanted himself. And now, hang it," said Hiram,
"he has come to live in this house, and I sha'n't have any peace of
mind."

Hira