"'My King!' says he, unexpected to himself. 'What you sayin', Huldy? You ain't biddin' that out o' your allowance, be you?' says he. Silas likes big words in the home. "'No, sir,' says she, crisp, back, 'I ain't. I can't do miracles out of nothin'. But I bid, an' you'll get your money, Silas. An' I may as well take the letters now.' "With that she rose up an' spread out her shawl almost broodin', an' gathered that box o' Jem Pitlaw's into her two arms. An' with one motion all the rest o' the Ladies' Missionary got up behind her an' stalked out of the store, like a big bid is sole all there is to an auction. An' they let us go. Why, there wasn't another thing for Silas Sykes to do but let be as was. Them three men over by the cheese just laughed, an' said out somethin' about no gentleman outbiddin' a lady, an' shut up, beat, but pretendin' to give in, like some will. "Just before we all got to the door we heard somebody's feet come down off'n a cracker-barrel or somethin', an' Timothy Toplady's voice after us, shrill-high an' nervous:-- "'Amanda,' s'he, 'you ain't calculatin' to help back up this tomfoolishness, I hope?' "An' Mis' Amanda says at him, over her shoulder: "'If I was, that'd be between my hens an' me, Timothy Toplady,' says she. "An' the store door shut behind us--not mad, I remember, but gentle, like 'Amen.' "We took the letters straight to Mis' Sykes's an' through the house to the kitchen, where there was a good hot fire in the range. It was bitter cold outdoors, an' we set down around the stove just as we was, with the letters on the floor in front o' the hearth. An' when Mis' Sykes hed got the bracket lamp lit, she turned round, her bonnet all crooked but her face triumphant, an' took off a griddle of the stove an' stirred up the coals. An' we see what was in her mind. "'We can take turns puttin' 'em in,' she says. "But I guess it was in all our minds what Mis' Holcomb-that-was-Mame-Bliss says, wistful:-- "'Don't you think,' she says, 'or _do_ you think, it'd be wrongin' Mr. Pitlaw if we read over the postmarks out loud first?' "We divided up the bunches an' we set down around an' untied the strings, an', turn in an' turn out, we read the postmarks off. 'Most every one of 'em was foreign--oh, I can't begin to tell you where. It was all mixed up an' shinin' of names we'd never heard of before, an' names we had heard in sermons an' in the Bible--Egypt an' Greece an' Rome an' isles o' the sea. Mis' Toplady stopped right in the middle o' hers. "'Oh, I can't be sure I'm pronouncin' 'em right,' she says, huntin' for her handkerchief, 'but I guess you ladies get the _feel_ o' the places, don't you?' "An' that was just it: we did. We got the feel of them far places that night like we never could hev hed it any other way. An' when we got all through, Mis' Toplady spoke up again--but this time it was like she flew up a little way an' lit on somethin'.