ind me ready."

"Mercy, aunt Ann!" said Amelia, beginning to unwind the visitor's wraps,
"what makes you keep houndin' Amos that way? If he hasn't spoke for
thirty-five years, it ain't likely he's goin' to begin now."

Aunt Ann was looking about her with an expression of beaming delight in
unfamiliar surroundings. She laughed a rich, unctuous laugh, and
stretched her hands to the blaze.

"Law," she said contentedly, "of course it ain't goin' to do no good.
Who ever thought 't would? But I've been at that boy all these years to
make him like other folks, an' I ain't goin' to stop now. He never shall
say his own mother didn't know her duty towards him. Well, 'Melia, you
_air_ kind o' snug here, arter all! Here, you hand me my bag, an' I'll
knit a stitch. I ain't a mite cold."

Amelia was bustling about the fire, her mind full of the possibilities
of a company dinner.

"How's your limbs?" she asked, while aunt Ann drew out a long stocking,
and began to knit with an amazing rapidity of which her fat fingers gave
no promise.

"Well, I ain't allowed to forgit 'em very often," she replied
comfortably. "Rheumatiz is my cross, an' I've got to bear it. Sometimes
I wish 't had gone into my hands ruther 'n my feet, an' I could ha' got
round. But there! if 't ain't one thing, it's another. Mis' Eben Smith's
got eight young ones down with the whoopin'-cough. Amos dragged me over
there yisterday; an' when I heerd 'em tryin' to see which could bark the
loudest, I says, 'Give me the peace o' Jerusalem in my own house, even
if I don't stir a step for the next five year no more'n I have for the
last.' I dunno what 't would be if I hadn't a darter. I've been greatly
blessed."

The talk went on in pleasant ripples, while Amelia moved back and forth
from pantry to table. She brought out the mixing-board, and began to put
her bread in the pans, while the tin kitchen stood in readiness by the
hearth. The sunshine flooded all the room, and lay insolently on the
paling fire; the Maltese cat sat in the broadest shaft of all, and,
having lunched from her full saucer in the corner, made her second
toilet for the day.

"'Melia," said aunt Ann suddenly, looking down over her glasses at the
tin kitchen, "ain't it a real cross to bake in that thing?"

"I always had it in mind to buy me a range," answered Amelia reservedly,
"but somehow we never got to it."

"That's the only thing I ever had ag'inst John. He was as grand a man as
ever was,