ee. And just so I got that red
spotted flannel dress I wore last winter. It was moth-eaten in one or
two places, and I made them let me have it at half-price;--made exactly
as good a dress. But after all, Mara, I can't trim a bonnet as you can,
and I can't come up to your embroidery, nor your lace-work, nor I can't
draw and paint as you can, and I can't sing like you; and then as to all
those things you talk with Mr. Sewell about, why they're beyond my
depth,--that's all I've got to say. Now, you are made to have poetry
written to you, and all that kind of thing one reads of in novels.
Nobody would ever think of writing poetry to me, now, or sending me
flowers and rings, and such things. If a fellow likes me, he gives me a
quince, or a big apple; but, then, Mara, there ain't any fellows round
here that are fit to speak to."

"I'm sure, Sally, there always is a train following you everywhere, at
singing-school and Thursday lecture."

"Yes--but what do I care for 'em?" said Sally, with a toss of her head.
"Why they follow me, I don't see. I don't do anything to make 'em, and I
tell 'em all that they tire me to death; and still they will hang
round. What is the reason, do you suppose?"

"What can it be?" said Mara, with a quiet kind of arch drollery which
suffused her face, as she bent over her painting.

"Well, you know I can't bear fellows--I think they are hateful."

"What! even Tom Hiers?" said Mara, continuing her painting.

"Tom Hiers! Do you suppose I care for him? He would insist on waiting on
me round all last winter, taking me over in his boat to Portland, and up
in his sleigh to Brunswick; but I didn't care for him."

"Well, there's Jimmy Wilson, up at Brunswick."

"What! that little snip of a clerk! You don't suppose I care for him, do
you?--only he almost runs his head off following me round when I go up
there shopping; he's nothing but a little dressed-up yard-stick! I never
saw a fellow yet that I'd cross the street to have another look at. By
the by, Mara, Miss Roxy told me Sunday that Moses was coming down from
Umbagog this week."

"Yes, he is," said Mara; "we are looking for him every day."

"You must want to see him. How long is it since you saw him?"

"It is three years," said Mara. "I scarcely know what he is like now. I
was visiting in Boston when he came home from his three-years' voyage,
and he was gone into the lumbering country when I came back. He seems
almost a stranger to me."

"H