t very night; and I hung it out of sight
behind the sitting room door; I told Henry I thought 'twould be safer
there."

"That sounds exactly like you, Abby," commented Mrs. Whittle
censoriously. "I should think Henry Daggett would be onto you, by
now."

"Well, he ain't," said Mrs. Daggett, with mild triumph. "He thinks
I'm real cute, an' like that. It does beat all, don't it? how simple
menfolks are. I like 'em all the better for it, myself. If Henry'd
been as smart an' penetrating as some folks, I don't know as we'd
have made out so well together. Ain't it lucky for me he ain't?"

Ann Whittle sniffed suspiciously. She never felt quite sure of Abby
Daggett: there was a lurking sparkle in her demure blue eyes and a
suspicious dimple near the corner of her mouth which ruffled Mrs.
Whittle's temper, already strained to the breaking point by the heat
and dust of their midday journey.

"Well, I never should have thought of such a thing, as going to
Ladies' Aid in all this heat, if you hadn't come after me, Abby," she
said crossly. "I guess flannel petticoats for the heathen could have
waited a spell."

"Mebbe they could, Ann," Mrs. Daggett said soothingly. "It's kind of
hard to imagine a heathen wanting any sort of a petticoat this
weather, and I guess they don't wear 'em before they're converted;
but of course the missionaries try to teach 'em better. They go
forth, so to say, with the Bible in one hand and a petticoat in the
other."

"I should hope so!" said Mrs. Whittle, with vague fervor.

The sight of a toiling wagon supporting a huge barrel caused her to
change the subject rather abruptly.

"That's Jacob Merrill's team," she said, craning her neck. "What on
earth has he got in that hogs-head?"

"He's headed for Lydia Orr's spring, I shouldn't wonder," surmised
Mrs. Daggett. "She told Henry to put up a notice in the post office
that folks could get all the water they wanted from her spring. It's
running, same as usual; but, most everybody else's has dried up."

"I think the minister ought to pray for rain regular from the pulpit
on Sunday," Mrs. Whittle advanced. "I'm going to tell him so."

"She's going to do a lot better than that," said Mrs. Daggett....
"For the land sake, Dolly! I ain't urged you beyond your strength,
and you know it; but if you don't g'long--"

A vigorous slap of the reins conveyed Mrs. Daggett's unuttered threat
to the reluctant animal, with the result that both ladies were
sudden