ll as lief as not, only I knew folks would talk if they
saw me."

"Land, no, they wouldn't, Mandy. Everybody knows you wouldn't take him
if he was the last man on earth; an' as for Caleb, I guess he wouldn't
marry any woman above ground, not if she was a seraphim. I used to
think he'd spunk up some time or other, when he got over his mother's
death; but it's too late now, I'm afraid."

"Caleb set great store by his mother; that's one good thing about
him," said Amanda.

"He did for certain," agreed Mrs. Benson. "If that girl he was engaged
to hadn't 'a' spoken disrespectful to her in his hearin' there'd 'a'
been a wife an' children up there now an' the place would 'a' looked
diff'rent."

"Not so very diff'rent! He didn't lose much in Eliza Johnson. I guess
he knows that by now!" remarked Amanda serenely; "though I s'pose 't
was quarrelin' with her that set him runnin' down hill, all the
same."

"I never thought he cared anything about Eliza. She was determined to
have him, an' he was too lazy to say no, but you see in the end she
only got her labor for her pains. The Kimball boys never had any luck
with their love affairs. When Caleb an' his mother was left alone, she
was terrible anxious for him to marry. She was allers findin' girls
for him, but part of 'em wouldn't look at him, and he wouldn't make up
to any of 'em."

"I was livin' in Lewiston those years," said Amanda.

"I remember you was. Well, when old Mrs. Kimball broke her arm,
Charles, the youngest son, that was a stage-driver, determined he'd
get somebody for Caleb, for his own wife wouldn't lift her finger to
help 'bout the house. He saw a girl up to Steep Falls that he kind o'
liked the looks of, an' he offered her a ride down to his mother's to
spend the day, thinkin' if the family liked her she might do for
Caleb. However, her eyes was weak an' she didn't know how to milk, so
they thought she'd better go home by train. That would 'a' been fair
enough for both parties, but when Charles drove her to the station he
charged her fifteen cents an' it made an awful sight o' talk. She had
a hot temper, an' she kind o' resented it!"

"I dare say 't wa'n't so," commented Amanda; "but everybody's dead
that could deny it, except Caleb, and he wouldn't take the trouble."

"It's one of the days when he's real drove, ain't it?" asked Susan
sarcastically, as she looked across the field to the wood-pile where a
gray-shirted figure sat motionless. "If ever a ma