she sits in one of
their short chairs listening and watching. They used to be great
friends of her grandmother's. Oh no; if I could go to see them they
would insist upon my going into the best room, and we should all be
quite uncomfortable. It is much better to sit here and think about
them and hear their flat-irons creak away over the little boys'
jackets and trousers."

"I must confess that I have my own clothes mended there to this day,"
said the doctor. "Marilla says their mending is not what it used to
be, too, but it is quite good enough. As for that little window, I
hardly ever see it without remembering the day of your aunt Margaret's
funeral. I was only a boy and not deeply afflicted, but of course I
had my place in the procession and was counted among the mourners, and
as we passed the Milman place I saw the old lady's face up there just
filling the four small panes. You know she was almost helpless, and
how she had got up into the little garret I cannot imagine, but she
was evidently determined to inspect the procession as it went down the
burying-ground lane. It was a pity they did not cut the window beneath
it in the lower room in her day. You know what an odd face she had; I
suppose it was distorted by disease and out of all shape it ever knew;
but I can see it now, framed in with its cap border and the window as
if there were no more of her."

"She really was the most curious old creature; it more than accounts
for Mrs. Turner's and Miss Betsy's love for a piece of news," said
Mrs. Graham, who was much amused. "But I wish we understood the value
of these old news-loving people. So much local history and tradition
must die with every one of them if we take no pains to save it. I hope
you are wise about getting hold of as much as possible. You doctors
ought to be our historians, for you alone see the old country folks
familiarly and can talk with them without restraint."

"But we haven't time to do any writing," the guest replied. "That is
why our books amount to so little for the most part. The active men,
who are really to be depended upon as practitioners, are kept so busy
that they are too tired to use the separate gift for writing, even if
they possess it, which many do not. And the literary doctors, the
medical scholars, are a different class, who have not had the
experience which alone can make their advice reliable. I mean of
course in practical matters, not anatomy and physiology. But we have
t