chizing,
conscientiously enough.

"Has Moppet been a good boy to-day?"

"Well, that's a pretty question! Course I have!"

"But have you had any good thoughts, dear, you know?"

"O yes, lots of 'em! been thinking about Blessingham."

"Who? O, Absalom!"

"O yes, I've been thinking about Blessingham, you know; how he must have
looked dreadful funny hanging up there onto his hair, with all the darts
'n things stickin' into him! _Would_n't you like to seen him! No, you
needn't go off, 'cause I ain't begun to be asleep yet."

Time and twilight were creeping on together. Sharley was sure that she
had heard the gate shut, and that some one sat talking with her mother
upon the front doorsteps.

"O Moppet! _Could_n't you go to sleep without me this one night,--not
this one night?" and the hot, impatient tears came in the dark.

"O no," said immovable Moppet, "of course I can't; and I 'spect I'm
going to lie awake all night too. You'd ought to be glad to stay with
your little brothers. The girl in my library-book, she was glad,
anyhow."

Sharley threw herself back in the rocking-chair and let her eyes brim
over. She could hear the voices on the doorsteps plainly; her mother's
wiry tones and the visitor's; it was a man's voice, low and less
frequent. Why did not her mother call her? Had not he asked to see her?
Had he not? Would nobody ever come up to take her place? Would Moppet
never go to sleep? There he was peering at her over the top of the
sheet, with two great, mischievous, wide-awake eyes. And time and
twilight were wearing on.

Let us talk about "affliction" with our superior, reproving smile!
Graves may close and hearts may break, fortunes, hopes, and souls be
ruined, but Moppet wouldn't go to sleep; and Sharley in her
rocking-chair doubted her mother's love, the use of life, and the
benevolence of God.

"I'm lying awake to think about Buriah," observed Moppet, pleasantly.
"David wanted to marry Buriah's wife. She was a very nice woman."

Silence followed this announcement.

"Sharley? you needn't think I'm asleep,--any such thing. Besides, if you
go down you'd better believe I'll holler! See here: s'pose I'd slung my
dipper at Hal Dike, jest as David slung the stone at Go-li--"

Another silence. Encouraged, Sharley dried her tears and crept half-way
across the floor. Then a board creaked.

"O Sharley! Why don't people shut their eyes when they die? Why, Jim
Snow's dorg, he didn't. I punched a frog yes