"Say that you will be mine, or I will die on this ere very spot, and be sent down to posterity a living monument of wimmen's hard-heartedness," sez the 'pothecary, a running his fingers through his hair, till it stuck up sort of wild every which way over his head. "Do you want to make this ere body a morter, and pound my loving heart to pieces with the pestle of delay? If not, speak and say that my love is returned." "It is," said Miss Josephine Burgess, kinder faint from behind her hand. "Angelic critter," sez the lovyer. "Now leave me," sez Miss Josephine Burgess. "Harnsomest of created wimmen! I will," sez the 'pothecary. "Oh how my heart beats," sez Miss Josephine Burgess. "And mine," sez the 'pothecary, a getting up and a spreading his hand out on his yaller vest. "Leave me now," sez Miss Josephine Burgess. "My dear critter, I will," sez the 'pothecary. With that he made tracks across the street, opened his empty money drawer with a sort of a chuckle, as much as to say, "if you're starved out in this way much longer I lose my guess," and then he drank off a glass of cold water, with a leetle brandy in it. Miss Josephine Burgess sat still as a mouse, till the 'pothecary chap made himself scarce, then she let down her hands and took a squint in the glass to see how her face stood it. Arter that she went to a big drawer, where she kept her slickest dry goods, and cut off a lot of shiney red velvet, which she took up stairs, and told the gal that had charge of the work-room, to have it made up into a ball dress before the gals went home. The ten poor tired young critters were jest a beginning to think about going hum to supper, but they sot down agin and looked in each other's faces, as melancholy as could be, but said nothing. The young gal that had charge of the work-room, happened to say that in the course of a week they would have a prime lot of red velvet bonnets to sell. At this Miss Josephine Burgess looked as cross as if she'd swallowed a paper of darning needles, and told the young gal to hold her tongue, and mind her own business. At this the young gal drew up, and was a going to give the milliner her change back agin, but jest that minit she happened to think that taking sarce from a stuck up critter was bad enough, but that starving was a good deal worse; and so she choked in and went to work at the dress, with her heart a swelling in her harnsome bosom, like a bird when it's first caught. "Don't let them gals go to sleep over their work," sez Miss Josephine Burgess, as she was a going down stairs. The young gal who had charge of the work-room, said something sort of loud about people's having no feeling. "What's that you say?" sez Miss Josephine Burgess, a coming back as spiteful as could be. "Nothing," sez the young gal who had charge of the work-room.