d or front to look down dejected till at Mrs.
Dill's all he was fit for was to sit on the foot of her 'n' mourn, with
the hat-pins 's held him steady stickin' out in all directions. Some
folks as was really very sorry about Mrs. Dill 'most died when they see
the dove, 'n' Mr. Kimball (he had n't bought the business then) remarked
openly 's his view was as he 'd better go to two or three baptisms afore
he tried another funeral. Such bein' the case, it was no more 'n natural
's we sh'd all feel a little worried thinkin' o' Mrs. White's bein' next
to stand the dove; 'n' Mrs. Sperrit said frank an' open 't to her order
o' thinkin' the deacon 'd ought to jus' forbid it. We all saw the sense
in her view; but even if we did, you know 's well 's I do it 'd be a
pretty delicate matter in this c'mmunity to be the first to deliberately
skip the dove."

"I think he's pret--" said Mrs. Lathrop, musingly.

"I won't say 't I don't think so, too," said Susan; "but I never was one
to turn a blind eye to the dirt on the outside o' nothin',--'s you know
to your cost, Mrs. Lathrop,--'n' such bein' the case, I certainly did
feel to regret 's the dove 'd had such long wear 'n' tear afore it come
Mrs. White's turn to be sat on. I was fond o' Mrs. White; we had n't
spoke in years, owin' to her bein' too deaf to hear, but what I see of
her from the street was always pleasant, 'n' I did n't like to think 's
maybe anythin' 'd be left out o' the last of her. So we let it all go,
'n' we certainly had our reward for so doin' when we see the result; for
Mr. Kimball did a fine job then 'n' there, 'n' when he was dry-cleaned
inside 'n' out, 'n' his beak 'n' feet painted, 'n' new beads for
eyes--well, all I can say is 't I wish you 'd been there to see him,
that 's all. He took his wings completely off, so 's to give him the air
o' bein' folded up; 'n' then he stuck a gilt arrow in his heart 'n' laid
him cornerways on the deacon's cross o' tiger-lilies. 'N' he did n't
stop 't that, neither; he took his wings 'n' sewed 'em to each side of a
red heart left over from a euchre-party, 'n' laid the whole on Mr.
Jilkins's piller o' pansies, so the deacon could n't in conscience feel
't anythin' 's he 'd paid for was wasted. I 've said all along, 'n' I'll
say ag'in here 'n' now, 't it was all one o' the prettiest things I ever
see; 'n' I was n't the only one 's felt that way, for I 've heard lots
o' folks say since 's they 'll want the dove just so for themselv