she.

"I should think 'twas hot. Oh, hum!"

"Don't you want me to get you a tumbler of water?"

"I dunno. I don't drink much cold water; it don't agree with me very
well. Oh, dear! You ain't got any of your beer made, I s'pose?"

"Oh, no, I ain't. I'm dreadful sorry. Don't you want a swaller of
cold tea?"

"Well, I dunno but I'll have jest a swaller, if you've got some. Oh,
dear me, hum!"

Amanda went out hurriedly, and returned with a britannia teapot and a
tumbler. She poured out some tea, and Mrs. Babcock drank with
desperate gulps.

"I think cold tea is better for anybody than cold water in hot
weather," said Amanda. "Won't you have another swaller, Mis'
Babcock?"

Mrs. Babcock shook her head, and Amanda carried the teapot and
tumbler back to the kitchen, then she seated herself again, and
resumed her mending. Mrs. Babcock fanned and panted, and eyed Amanda.

"You look cool enough in that old muslin sacque," said she, in a tone
of vicious injury.

"Yes, it is real cool. I've kept this sacque on purpose for a real
hot day."

"Well, it's dreadful long in the shoulder seams, 'cordin' to the way
they make 'em now, but I s'pose it's cool. Oh, hum! I ruther guess I
shouldn't have come out of the house, if I'd any idea how hot 'twas
in the sun. Seems to me it's hot as an oven here. I should think
you'd air off your house early in the mornin', an' then shut your
windows tight, an' keep the heat out."

"I know some folks do that way," said Amanda.

"Well, I always do, an' I guess 'most everybody does that's good
housekeepers. It makes a sight of difference."

Amanda said nothing, but she sat straighter.

"I s'pose you don't have to make any fire from mornin' till night;
seems as if you might keep cool."

"No, I don't have to."

"Well, I do. There I had to go to work to-day an' cook squash an'
beans an' green corn. The men folks ain't satisfied if they don't
have 'em in the time of 'em. I wish sometimes there wasn't no such
thing as garden sauce. I tell 'em sometimes I guess if they had to
get the things ready an' cook 'em themselves, they'd go without.
Seems sometimes as if the whole creation was like a kitchen without
any pump in it, specially contrived to make women folks extra work.
Looks to me as if pease without pods could have been contrived pretty
easy, and it does seem as if there wasn't any need of havin' strings
on the beans."

"Mis' Green has got a kind of beans without any strings," sai