d shame.

"Hetty Gunn'll never sell that farm, not a stick nor a stone on't, any
more than the old Squire himself would. You'll see, she'll keep it a
goin', jest the same's ever. It's a thousand pities, she warn't born a
boy."

II.

The funeral took place late in the afternoon of a warm April day. The
roads were very muddy, and the long procession wound back to the village
about as slowly as it had gone out. One by one, wagon after wagon fell
out of the line, and turned off to the right or left, until there were
left only the Gunns' big carryall, in which sat Hetty, with her two
house-servants,--an old black man and his wife, who had been in her
father's house so long, that their original patronymic had fallen
entirely out of use, and they were known as "Caesar Gunn" and "Nan Gunn"
the town over. Behind this followed their farm wagon, in which sat the
farmer and his wife with their babies, and the two farm laborers,--all
Irish, and all crying audibly after the fashion of their race. As they
turned into the long avenue of pines which led up to the house, their
grief broke out louder and louder; and, when the wagon stopped in front
of the western piazza, their sobs and cries became howls and shrieks.
Hetty, who was just entering the front-door, turned suddenly, and
walking swiftly toward them, said, in a clear firm tone,--

"Look here! Mike, Dan, Norah, I'm ashamed of you. Don't you see you're
frightening the poor little children? Be quiet. The one who loved my
father most will be the first one to go about his work as if nothing had
happened. Mike, saddle the pony for me at six. I am going to ride over
to Deacon Little's."

The men were too astonished to reply, but gazed at her dumbly. Mike
muttered sullenly, as he drove on,--

"An' it's a quare way to be showin' our love, I'm thinkin'."

"An' it's Miss Hetty's own way thin, by Jasus!" answered Dan; "an' I'd
jist loike to see the man 'ud say, she didn't fairly worship the very
futsteps of 'im."

When Deacon Little heard Hetty Gunn's voice at his door that night, the
old man sprang to his feet as he had not sprung for twenty years.

"Bless my soul!" he exclaimed, "what can have brought Hetty Gunn here
to-night?" and he met her in the hall with outstretched hands.

"Hetty, my dear, what is it?" he exclaimed, in a tone of anxiety. "Oh!"
said Hetty, earnestly. "I have frightened you, haven't I? was it wrong
for me to come to-night? There are so many things I