Mrs. Troost drew her chair
near, saying, "Did you ever hear about William McMicken's bees?"

Mrs. Hill had never heard, and, expressing an anxiety to do so, was told
the following story:

"His wife, you know, was she that was Sally May, and it's an old
saying--

'To change the name and not the letter,
You marry for worse and not for better.'

"Sally was a dressy, extravagant girl; she had her bonnet 'done up'
twice a year always, and there was no end to her frocks and ribbons and
fine things. Her mother indulged her in every thing; she used to say
Sally deserved all she got; that she was worth her weight in gold. She
used to go everywhere, Sally did. There was no big meeting that she was
not at, and no quilting that she didn't help to get up. All the girls
went to her for the fashions, for she was a good deal in town at her
Aunt Hanner's, and always brought out the new patterns. She used to have
her sleeves a little bigger than anybody else, you remember, and then
she wore great stiffeners in them--la, me! there was no end to her
extravagance.

"She had a changeable silk, yellow and blue, made with a surplus front;
and when she wore that, the ground wasn't good enough for her to walk
on, so some folks used to say; but I never thought Sally was a bit proud
or lifted up; and if any body was sick there was no better-hearted
creature than she; and then, she was always good-natured as the day was
long, and would sing all the time at her work. I remember, along before
she was married, she used to sing one song a great deal, beginning

'I've got a sweetheart with bright black eyes;'

and they said she meant William McMicken by that, and that she might not
get him after all--for a good many thought they would never make a
match, their dispositions were so contrary. William was of a dreadful
quiet turn, and a great home body; and as for being rich, he had nothing
to brag of, though he was high larnt and followed the river as dark
sometimes."

Mrs. Hill had by this time prepared her currants, and Mrs. Troost paused
from her story while she filled the kettle and attached the towel to the
end of the well-sweep, where it waved as a signal for Peter to come to
supper.

"Now, just move your chair a leetle nearer the kitchen door, if you
please," said Mrs. Hill, "and I can make up my biscuit and hear you,
too."

Meantime, coming to the door with some bread-crumbs in her hands, she
began scattering them on the