was broke," said Mike,
"but I don't believe he ever got nuthin', and I reckon they thought it
was no use botherin' about sendin' me, special, in the wagon."

"Well, they're uncommon queer folks," said Phoebe. "I reckon they've got
nobody to write to, or git letters from. Anyway, Miss Dora wanted her
letter to git here, and so she says to me that if I'd take it, she'd pay
the hire of a hack, and so, as I wanted to see you anyway, Mike, I 'greed
quick enough."

Before delivering the letter with which she had been entrusted, Phoebe
proceeded to attend to some personal business, which was to ask her
husband to lend her five dollars.

"Bless my soul," said Mike, "I ain't got no five dollars. I ain't asked
for no wages yit, and don't expect to, till the craps is sold."

"I can't wait for that!" exclaimed Phoebe; "I's got to have money to
carry on the house."

"Whar's the money the preacher pays you?" asked her husband.

"Dat's a comin'," said Phoebe, "dat's a comin' all right. Thar's to be a
special c'lection next Sunday mornin', and the money's goin' to pay the
minister's board. I'm to git every cent what's owin' to me, and I reckon
it'll take it all."

"He ain't paid you nuthin' yit, thin?"

"Not yit; there was another special c'lection had to be tuk up fust, but
the next one's for me. Can't you go ask your boss for five dollars?"

"Oh, yes," said Mike, "he'll give it to me if I ask him. Look here,
Phoebe, we might's well git all the good we kin out of five dollars, and
I reckon I'll come to chu'ch next Sunday, and put the five dollars in the
c'lection. I'll git the credit of givin' a big lot of money, and that'll
set me up a long time wid the congregation, and you git the five dollars
all the same."

"Mike," said Phoebe, solemnly, "don't you go and do dat; mind, I tell
you, don't you do dat. You give me them five dollars, and jes' let that
c'lection alone. No use you wearin' youself out a walkin' to chu'ch, and
all the feedin' and milkin' to do besides."

Mike laughed. "I reckon you think five dollars in th' pahm of th' hand is
better than a whole c'lection in the bush. I'll see th' boss before you
go, and if he's got the money, he'll let me have it."

Satisfied on this point, Phoebe now declared that she must go and deliver
her letter; but she first inquired how her husband was getting on, and
how he was treated by Molly Tooney.

"I ain't got no use for that woman;" and he proceeded to tell his wife of
th