and his second best, and how
carefully the first had to be kept under lock and key, where he could
not get at them; for he was understood, good as he was, to have
concealed in him all the thriftless and pernicious inconsiderateness of
the male nature, ready at any moment to break out into unheard-of
improprieties. But the good man submitted himself to Miss Emily's rule,
and suffered himself to be led about by her with an air of half
whimsical consciousness.

Mrs. Kittridge that day had felt the full delicacy of the compliment
when she ascertained by a hasty glance, before the first prayer, that
the good man had been brought out to her funeral in all his very best
things, not excepting the long silk stockings, for she knew the
second-best pair by means of a certain skillful darn which Miss Emily
had once shown her, which commemorated the spot where a hole had been.
The absence of this darn struck to Mrs. Kittridge's heart at once as a
delicate attention.

"Mis' Simpkins," said Mrs. Kittridge to her pastor, as they were seated
at the tea-table, "told me that she wished when you were going home that
you would call in to see Mary Jane; she couldn't come out to the funeral
on account of a dreffle sore throat. I was tellin' on her to gargle it
with blackberry-root tea--don't you think that is a good gargle, Mr.
Sewell?"

"Yes, I think it a very good gargle," replied the minister, gravely.

"Ma'sh rosemary is the gargle that I always use," said Miss Roxy; "it
cleans out your throat so."

"Marsh rosemary is a very excellent gargle," said Mr. Sewell.

"Why, brother, don't you think that rose leaves and vitriol is a good
gargle?" said little Miss Emily; "I always thought that you liked rose
leaves and vitriol for a gargle."

"So I do," said the imperturbable Mr. Sewell, drinking his tea with the
air of a sphinx.

"Well, now, you'll have to tell which on 'em will be most likely to cure
Mary Jane," said Captain Kittridge, "or there'll be a pullin' of caps,
I'm thinkin'; or else the poor girl will have to drink them all, which
is generally the way."

"There won't any of them cure Mary Jane's throat," said the minister,
quietly.

"Why, brother!" "Why, Mr. Sewell!" "Why, you don't!" burst in different
tones from each of the women.

"I thought you said that blackberry-root tea was good," said Mrs.
Kittridge.

"I understood that you 'proved of ma'sh rosemary," said Miss Roxy,
touched in her professional pride.

"And