"I've come to call on for town help," she said. "I haven't got scrap
nor skred to eat, and northin' to cook it with. You've gone to work
and put us in a pretty mess, Mister S'leckman. Makin' my husband an
outlaw that's took to the woods, and me left on the chips!"

The Cap'n surveyed her without speaking--apparently too crushed to
make any talk. In addition to other plagues, it was now plain that
he had brought a pauper upon the town of Smyrna.

"So I call on," she repeated, "and I need a whole new stock of
groc'ries, and something to cook 'em with."

And still the Cap'n did not speak. He sat considering her, his brows
knitted.

"I'm a proud woman nat'rally," she went on, "and it's tough to have
to call on 'cause the crowned heads of earth has oppressed the meek
and the lowly."

Cap'n Sproul trudged across the room, and took down a big book
inscribed "Revised Statutes." He found a place in the volume and
began to read in an undertone, occasionally looking over his specs
at her.

"It's as I thought it was," he muttered; "when one member of a family,
wife or minor children, call on for town aid, whole family can be
declared paupers till such time as, and so forth." He banged the big
book shut. "Interestin' if true--and found to be true. Law to use
as needed. So you call on, do you, marm?" he queried, raising his
voice. "Well, if you're all ready to start for the poor-farm, come
along."

"I ain't goin' onto no poor-farm," she squealed. "I call on, but I
want supplies furnished."

"Overseer of the poor has the say as to what shall be done with
paupers," announced the Cap'n. "I say poor-farm. They need a good,
able-bodied pauper woman there, like you seem to be. The other wimmen
paupers are bedridden."

"My husband will never let me be took to the poorhouse and kept
there."

"Oh, there ain't goin' to be any trouble from that side. You're right
in line to be a widder most any time now."

"Be you goin' to kill 'Liah?" she wailed.

"It will be a self-actin' proposition, marm. I ain't got any very
special grudge against him, seein' that he's a poor, unfortunate
critter. I'm sorry, but so it is." He went on with great appearance
of candor. "You see, he don't understand the nature of that stuff
he's luggin' round. It goes off itself when it gets about so warm.
It's comin' warmin' weather now--sun gettin' high--and mebbe next
time he starts for the village the bust will come."

"Ain't any one goin' to warn him