t,' says he, 'I can't stand here
talkin'. There's a heap to be done yet, and Milly's lookin' for me
now.'

"And with that he got on his horse and rode off, and I went into the
house to put the children to bed. Then I set down on the porch steps
to wait for Abram. The sun was down by this time, and there was a new
moon in the west, and it didn't seem like there could be any sorrow
and sufferin' in such a quiet, happy, peaceful-lookin' world. But
there was poor Mary not a mile away, and I set and grieved over her in
her trouble jest like it had been my own. I didn't know what had
happened that day between Harvey and Mary. But I knew that Harvey had
been struck down in the prime o' life, and that Mary had found his
dead body, and that was terrible enough. From what I'd seen o' their
married life I knew that Mary's loss wasn't what mine would 'a' been
if Abram had dropped dead that day instead o' Harvey, but a man and
woman can't live together as husband and wife and father and mother
without growin' to each other; and whatever Mary hadn't lost, she had
lost the father of her children, and I couldn't sleep much that night
for thinkin' of her.

"The day of the funeral I went over to help Mary and get her dressed
in her widow's clothes. She was actin' queer and dazed, and nothin'
seemed to make much impression on her. I was fastenin' her crape
collar on, and she says to me: 'I reckon you think it's strange I
don't cry and take on like women do when they lose their husbands.
But,' says she, 'you wouldn't blame me if you knew.'

"And then she dropped her voice down to a whisper, and says she, 'You
know I married Harvey Andrews. But after I married him, I found that
there wasn't any such man. I haven't got any cause to cry, for the man
I married ain't dead. He never was alive, and so, of course, he can't
be dead.'

"And then she began to laugh; and says she, 'I don't know which is the
worst: to be sorry when you ought to be glad, or glad when you ought
to be sorry.'

"And I says, 'Hush, Mary, don't talk about it. I know what you mean,
but other folks might not understand.'

"Mary ain't the only one, child, that's married a man, and then found
out that there _wasn't any such man_. I've looked at many a bride and
groom standin' up before the preacher and makin' promises for a
lifetime, and I've thought to myself, 'You pore things, you! All you
know about each other is your names and your faces. You've got all
the rest to