oked on the book and tried to
follow the hymn; but passages of Scripture flocked into her head in
place of good Dr. Watts's verses, and when the little melodeon played
the interludes she could only hear:--

"Yea, the sparrow hath found her an house and the swallow a nest where
she may lay her young, even Thy altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my
God."

"As a bird that wandereth from her nest, so is a man that wandereth from
his place."

"The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son
of man hath not where to lay his head."

And then the text fell on her bewildered ears, and roused her from one
reverie to plunge her in another. It was chosen, as it chanced, from the
First Epistle of Timothy, chapter first, verse fifth: "Now the end of
the commandment is charity, out of a pure heart."

"That means the Missionary Society," said Miss Vilda to her conscience,
doggedly; but she knew better. The parson, the text,--or was it the
bird?--had brought the message; but for the moment she did not lend the
hearing ear or the understanding heart.

SCENE X.

_The Supper Table._

AUNT HITTY COMES TO "MAKE OVER," AND SUPPLIES BACK NUMBERS TO ALL THE
VILLAGE HISTORIES.

Aunt Hitty, otherwise Mrs. Silas Tarbox, was as cheery and loquacious a
person as you could find in a Sabbath day's journey. She was armed with
a substantial amount of knowledge at almost every conceivable point; but
if an unexpected emergency ever did arise, her imagination was equal to
the strain put upon it and rose superior to the occasion. Yet of an
evening, or on Sunday, she was no village gossip; it was only when you
put a needle in her hand or a cutting-board in her lap that her memory
started on its interminable journeyings through the fields of the past.
She knew every biography and every "ought-to-be-ography" in the county,
and could tell you the branches of every genealogical tree in the
village.

It was dusk at the White Farm, and a late supper was spread upon the
hospitable board. (Aunt Hitty was always sure of a bountiful repast. If
one were going to economize, one would not choose for that purpose the
day when the village seamstress came to sew; especially when the
aforesaid lady served the community in the stead of a local newspaper.)

The children had eaten their bread and milk, and were out in the barn
with Jabe, watching the milking. Aunt Hitty was in a cheerful mood as
she reflected on her day's achievemen