in'-man in this country."

"If there wa'n't no work for him, he'd be wuss off yet," responded
Samantha.

"Right ye are, Samanthy! Look here, when 'd you want that box you give
me to fix?"

"I wanted it before hayin', but I s'pose any time before Thanksgivin'
'll do, seein' it's you."

"What's wuth doin' 't all 's wuth takin' time over, 's my motto," said
Jabe cheerfully, "but seein' it's you, I'll nail that cover on ter night
or bust!"

SCENE IX.

_A Village Sabbath._

"NOW THE END OF THE COMMANDMENT IS CHARITY, OUT OF A PURE HEART."

It was Sunday morning, and the very peace of God was brooding over
Pleasant River. Timothy, Rags, and Gay were playing decorously in the
orchard. Maria was hitched to an apple-tree in the side yard, and stood
there serenely with her eyes half closed, dreaming of oats past and oats
to come. Miss Vilda and Samantha issued from the mosquito-netting door,
clad in Sunday best; and the children approached nearer, that they might
share in the excitement of the departure for "meeting." Gay clamored to
go, but was pacified by the gift of a rag-doll that Samantha had made
for her the evening before. It was a monstrosity, but Gay dipped it
instantly in the alembic of her imagination, and it became a beautiful,
responsive little daughter, which she clasped close in her arms, and on
which she showered the tenderest tokens of maternal affection.

Miss Vilda handed Timothy a little green-paper-covered book, before she
climbed into the buggy. "That's a catechism," she said; "and if you'll
be a good boy and learn the first six pages, and say 'em to me this
afternoon, Samantha 'll give you a top that you can spin on week days."

"What is a catechism?" asked Timothy, as he took the book.

"It's a Sunday-school lesson."

"Oh, then I can learn it," said Timothy, brightening; "I learned three
for Miss Dora, in the city."

"Well, I'm thankful to hear that you've had some spiritual advantages;
now, stay right here in the orchard till Jabe comes; and don't set the
house afire," she added, as Samantha took the reins and raised them for
the mighty slap on Maria's back which was necessary to wake her from her
Sunday slumber.

"Why would I want to set the house afire?" Timothy asked wonderingly.

"Well, I don't know 's you would want to, but I thought you might get
to playin' with matches, though I've hid 'em all."

"Play with matches!" exclaimed Timothy, in wide-eyed astonishment that a
m