if
there had ceased to be any thoughts behind it. Matilda wondered if it
was because she had so little to think of. "What about reading the
Bible?" she said.

"You cannot read lying there, can you?"

"There ain't a book nowheres in the house."

"Not a Bible?"

"A Bible? I hain't seen a Bible in five year."

"Do you remember what is in the Bible?" said Matilda, greatly shocked.
This _was_ living without air.

"Remember?" said the woman. "I'm tired o' 'membering. I'd like to go to
sleep and remember no more. What's the use?"

"What do you remember?" Matilda asked in some awe.

"I remember 'most everything," said the woman, wearily. "Times when I
was well and strong--and young--and had my house comfor'ble and my
things respectable. Them times was once. And I had what I wanted, and
could do what I had a mind to. There ain't no use in remembering. I'd
like to forget. Now I lie here."

"Do you remember nothing else?" said Matilda.

"I remember it all," said the woman. "I've nothin' to do but think.
When I was first married, and just come home, and thought all the world
was"--she stopped to sigh--"a garden o' posies. 'Tain't much like
it--to poor folks. And I had my children around me--Sabriny's the last
on 'em. She's out there, ain't she?"

"Yes."

"What's she doin'?"

"She is ironing."

"Yes; she takes in. Sabriny has it all to do. I can't do nothin'--this
five year."

"May I come and see you again, Mrs. Rogers? I must go now."

"You may come if you like," was the answer. "I don't know what you
should want to come for."

Matilda was afraid her fire of pine sticks would give out; and hurried
across the lane again with her basket of clean things. The stove had
fired up, to be sure; and Mrs. Eldridge was sitting crouched over it,
with an evident sense of enjoyment that went to Matilda's heart. If the
room now were but clean, she thought, and the other room; and the bed
made, and Mrs. Eldridge herself. There was too much to think of;
Matilda gave it up, and attended to the business in hand. The kettle
boiled. She made the tea in the tea-cup; laid a herring on the stove;
spread some bread and butter; and in a few minutes invited Mrs.
Eldridge's attention to her supper spread on a chair. The old woman
drank the tea as if it were the rarest of delicacies; Matilda filled up
her cup again; and then she fell to work on the fish and bread and
butter, tearing them to pieces with her fingers, and in great though