thought as her mother was prejudiced. She said Hiram had a sort of way with him before he was married as was so hopeful, an' he used to look at her an' sigh till it just went all through her how happy they'd be if they could only be together all they wanted to be together. Well, you c'n believe me or not, just as you please, Mrs. Lathrop, but she says he ain't sighed once—not once—since they was married, an' as for bein' happy—well—she says she's about give up hope. She don't want folks to know, 'cause she says she's got some pride, but she says there's no tellin' how soon it'll run out if Gran'ma Mullins keeps on huggin' Hiram, an' tellin' her how perfect he is over his own head."

"I don't—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Well, I should say not," said Susan; "but Hiram Mullins always was his mother's white goose, an' the whole town is a witness. My idea if I was Lucy would be to shut right down solid on the whole thing. I'd put a bolt on my door an' keep Gran'ma Mullins an' her tuckin' tendencies on the other side, an' if Hiram Mullins did n't come to time I'd bolt him out, too, an' if he was n't nice about it I'd get out of the window an' go home to my father. I guess Mr. Dill would be very glad to have Lucy home again, for they say 'Liza Em'ly's no great success keepin' house for him. Some one told me as Mr. Dill was in mortal fear as he was practically feedin' the minister's whole family every time she went home, an' that would be enough to make any man, as had only his own self to feed, want his own daughter back, I should think.

"There's Mrs. Macy as would be glad to keep house for him if he 'd marry her first, of course, but to my order of thinkin' Mr. Dill don't want to marry Mrs. Macy near as much as Mrs. Macy wants to marry Mr. Dill. Mrs. Macy says he's pesterin' her to death, an' Mr. Dill says if it's pesterin' to speak when you're spoken to, he must buy a new dictionary an' learn the new meanin' of the words by heart. Between ourselves, I guess Mr. Dill is learnin' the lesson of wedded bliss from lookin' at Lucy an' rememberin' her mother. Lucy ain't very happy an' you know as well as I do what Mrs. Dill was. Her husband won't marry again in a hurry, an' he's smart if he don't, for if Lucy ain't home in less 'n a year I'll make you a tea cake."

"I—" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Well, you ain't Lucy Dill," said her friend. "If you was you'd be different. Lucy says this being waked up by havin' a hot flatiron slid in among your feet most any time for no better reason than 'cause his mother thought she heard Hiram sneeze, is a game as can be played once too often. I see her temper was on the rise so I struck in, an' give her a little advice of my own, an' as a result she says she's goin' to take a strong upper hand to 'em both an' there won't be no velvet glove on it neither. She says she can see as it's do or die for her now, an' she don't mean to be done nor to die neither. She drank some tea as I made strong on purpose, an' shook her head hard an' went home, an' God help Hiram if he hummed last night; an' as for Gran'ma Mullins, Lucy said if she come stealin' in to feel if Hiram was breathin' reg'lar, she was going to get slapped for a mosquito in a way as she'd long remember."

"Dear me—" commented Mrs. Lathrop.

"Well, I did n't blame her," said Miss Clegg. "Of course I did n't know as I was going to hear the other side afore night fell, but hearin' her side stirred me up so that I give her my advice, an' my advice was to put the bootjack under her pillow. There ain't no sense in women sufferin' any more, to my idea of thinkin'. It's a good deal easier to go to bed with a bootjack, an' I look to see Lucy really happy or Hiram smashed flat soon in consequence."

"But you—" said Mrs. Lathrop, wide-eyed.

"I know, an' that did change my ideas. Of course when I was talkin' to Lucy I was n't expectin' to see Gran'ma Mullins so soon, but I won't say but what I was glad to see Gran'ma Mullins, too. It's a most curious feelin', I d'n know as I ever feel a curiouser than to hear both sides of anythin' from the both sides themselves right one after the other in the same day. O' course I learned long ago to never take any sides myself unless one of 'em was mine; but I will say as I don't believe no one could feel for others more 'n I do when I hear folks shakin' their heads over what as a general thing a person with brains like mine knows is their own fault, an' knowed was goin' to be their own fault afore they ever even began to think of doin' it.

"Now there was Lucy Dill yesterday forenoon mournin' 'cause Hiram is Hiram an' his mother is his mother, an' then after dinner there comes Gran'ma Mullins with her bonnet strings an' her tears all streamin' together, an' wants my sympathy 'cause Lucy herself is Lucy herself. Well, Mrs. Lathrop, I can't but feel proud o' being able to hold the reins so hard on my own bit that I never up an' told either on 'em the plain truth, which is as they was all fools together to of ever looked for the weddin' service to have changed any on 'em."

"What did—" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"I don't know as I'm prepared to say what I think. To hear Lucy you'd think she was surely the martyr, but to hear Gran'ma Mullins you would n't be sure after all. Gran'ma Mullins says after the honeymoon is over every one expects to settle down as a matter of course, an' she would n't say a word against it only it's Lucy is doin' all the settlin' an' poor Hiram as is doin' all the down. She says it's heartbreakin' to be a only mother an' watch the way as Hiram is being everlastin'ly downed. She says as we all remember that bright an' happy weddin' day[B] an' how she downed her own feelin's an' waved rice after 'em just like everybody else when they started off weddin'-trippin', each with their own bag in his own hand. But, oh, she says, the way they come back! She says they come back with Hiram carryin' both bags, an' her heart sunk when she see 'em for she says when she was married it was her as come home carryin' both bags an' she says it's one of the saddest straws as ever blows a bride out. She says she never expected much of her marriage 'cause she was engaged on a April Fool's Day in Leap Year, an' he give her an imitation opal for a ring, but she says Hiram give Lucy a real green emerald with a 18 an' a K inside it an' he looked to be happy even with his mother's tears mildewin' his pillow every night that whole summer. She says no one will ever know how hard she did try to get sense into Hiram that summer afore it was too late. She says she used to sit up in tears an' wait for him to come home from seein' Lucy, an' weep on his neck with her arms tight round him for two or three hours afterwards every night, but she says he never used to appreciate it. An' she says what he needed to marry for, anyway, Heaven only knows, with his whole life laid pleasantly out to suit him, an' a strong an' able-bodied mother ready an' smilin' to hand him whatever he wanted just as quick as he wanted it. An' she says she never asked him to do nothin' as she could possibly do herself an' the way Lucy orders him about!—well, she says it's beyond all belief. An' oh, but she says it goes through her like a chained-up bolt of lightnin' the voice Lucy speaks to him in, an' she said she would n't have no one know it for worlds but she says as near as she can figger she hit him over the head with a hairbrush night before last."