the
factory at Milltown and married a do--nothin' fellow by the name o' John
Winslow?"

"Yes; well, where is he? Why don't he take care of her?"

"They ain't worked well in double harness. They've been rovin' round the
country, livin' a month here and a month there wherever they could get
work and house-room. They quarreled a couple o' weeks ago and he left
her. She and the little boy kind o' camped out in an old loggin' cabin
back in the woods and she took in washin' for a spell; then she got
terrible sick and ain't expected to live."

"Who's been nursing her?" inquired Miss Jane.

"Lizy Ann Dennett, that lives nearest neighbor to the cabin; but I
guess she's tired out bein' good Samaritan. Anyways, she sent word this
mornin' that nobody can't seem to find John Winslow; that there ain't
no relations, and the town's got to be responsible, so I'm goin' over to
see how the land lays. Climb in, Rebecca. You an' Emmy Jane crowd back
on the cushion an' I'll set forrard. That's the trick! Now we're off!"

"Dear, dear!" sighed Jane Sawyer as the sisters walked back into the
brick house. "I remember once seeing Sally Perry at meeting. She was a
handsome girl, and I'm sorry she's come to grief."

"If she'd kep' on goin' to meetin' an' hadn't looked at the men folks
she might a' be'n earnin' an honest livin' this minute," said Miranda.
"Men folks are at the bottom of everything wrong in this world," she
continued, unconsciously reversing the verdict of history.

"Then we ought to be a happy and contented community here in Riverboro,"
replied Jane, "as there's six women to one man."

"If 't was sixteen to one we'd be all the safer," responded Miranda
grimly, putting the doughnuts in a brown crock in the cellar-way and
slamming the door.

II

The Perkins horse and wagon rumbled along over the dusty country road,
and after a discreet silence, maintained as long as human flesh could
endure, Rebecca remarked sedately:

"It's a sad errand for such a shiny morning, isn't it, Mr. Perkins?"

"Plenty o' trouble in the world, Rebecky, shiny mornin's an' all," that
good man replied. "If you want a bed to lay on, a roof over your head,
an' food to eat, you've got to work for em. If I hadn't a' labored early
an' late, learned my trade, an' denied myself when I was young, I might
a' be'n a pauper layin' sick in a loggin' cabin, stead o' bein' an
overseer o' the poor an' selectman drivin' along to take the pauper to
the poor fa