"'When,' says he, lettin' his head lurch with his own emphasizin', 'did the Common Council hear about this?' "'They ain't heard, about it,' says Mis' Sykes, 'no more'n we ever hear anything about them.' "Silas an' Timothy is both aldermen, an' rill sensitive over it. I guess the Common Council always _is_ a delicate subject, ain't it? "Mebbe it wasn't a rill diplomatic way to begin, but it hadn't entered the Sodality's head that the town wouldn't be glad to hev the pavin' done if the Sodality was willin' to do it. Ain't it a hard thing to learn that it ain't all willingness, nor yet all bein' capable, that gets things done in the world? It's part just edgin' round an' edgin' round. "What did the Common Council do that night but call a special meetin' an' vote not to order any city pavin' done that present year. Every member was there but Threat Hubbelthwait, who was fiddlin', an' every vote was switched by Silas an' Timothy to be unanimous, excep' Eppleby Holcomb's vote. Eppleby, we heard afterwards, said that when a pack o' women made up their minds to pave, they'd pave if it was to pave--some place that Eppleby hadn't ought to 'a' mentioned; an' he was goin' to be on the pavin' side. But then, Eppleby is the gentlest husband in Friendship Village, an' known to be. "Sodality met special next day, not so much to do anything as to let it be known that we'd took action. This we done by votin' to lay low till such time as we could order the wooden blocks. We preferred to pave peaceable, it bein' hot weather. "Mis' Toplady an' Mis' Sykes an' Mis' Holcomb-that-was-Mame-Bliss an' Mis' Mayor Uppers an' I walked home together from that meetin'. It was a blisterin' July afternoon--one of them afternoons that melts itself out flat, same as a dropped pepp'mint on a brick walk, an' you're left stickin' in it helpless as a fly, an' generally buzzin'. I rec'lect we was buzzin'--comin' down Daphne Street in that chokin' dust an' no pavement. "'It's a dog's life, livin' in a little town--in some respects,' I remember Mis' Sykes says. "'Well,' says Mis' Toplady, tolerant, 'I know. I know it is. But I'd rather live in a little town an' dog it out than go up to the city an' turn wolf, same as some.' "An' yet we all felt the same, every one of us. They ain't a woman livin' in a little place that don't feel the same, now and again. It's quiet an' it's easy housework, an' you get to know folks well. But oh, none of it what you might say _glitters_. An' they ain't no woman whatever--no matter how good a wife an' mother an' Christian an' even housekeeper she is--that don't, 'way down deep in her heart, feel that hankerin' after some sort o' _glitter_.