"Do you ever see any wash hung out?" Mrs. Benson's needle stopped in midair while she waited for Amanda's answer. "Ye-es; now an' then." "What kind?" "Sheets; once a gray blanket; underclothes; but naturally I don't look when they're hung out. He generally puts 'em on the grass, anyway." "Well, it's a sin for a man to live so in a Christian country, an' the kindest thing to say about him is that he's crazy. Some o' the men folks over to the store declare he is crazy; but William declares he ain't. He says he's asleep. William kind o' likes him. Does he ever pass the time o' day with you?" "Hardly ever. I meet him once or twice a year, maybe, in the road. He bows when I go past on an errand an' holds on to his dog when he tries to run out an' bite me." "That's real kind o' gentlemanly," observed Susan. "I never thought of it that way," said Amanda absently; "but perhaps it is. All I can say is, Caleb Kimball's a regular thorn in my flesh. I can't do anything for him, an' I can't forget him, right under foot as he is--his land joinin' mine. Mornin', noon, an' night for years I've wanted to get into that man's house an' make it decent for him; wanted to milk the cow the right time o' day; feed the horse; weed the garden; scrub the floor; wash the windows; black the stove." "How you do go on, Mandy!" exclaimed Mrs. Benson. "What diff'rence does it make to you how dirty he is, so long's you're clean?" "It does make a diff'rence, an' it always will. I hate to see the daisies growin' so thick, knowin' how he needs hay. I want to root 'em out same's I did mine, after I'd been away three years in Lewiston. I hate to take my pot o' beans out o' the oven Saturday nights an' know he ain't had gumption enough to get himself a Christian meal. Livin' alone 's I do, Susan, things 'bulk up' in my mind bigger'n they'd ought to." "They do so," agreed Susan; "an' you mustn't let 'em. You must come over to our house oftener. You know William loves to have you, an' so do the boys. The Bible may insinuate we are our brother's keeper, but we can't none of us help it if he won't _be_ kept!--There, I must be gettin' home. I've had considerable many reminders the last half-hour that it's about time! It's none o' my business, Mandy, but you do spoil that cat, an' the time's not far off when he won't be a mite o' comfort to you. Of course, I'm too intimate here to take offense, but if the minister should happen to set in this chair when he calls, an' see that cat promenade round an' round the rockers an' then rustle off into the settin'-room as mad as Cuffy, he'd certainly take notice an' think he wa'n't a welcome visitor." "Like mistress, like cat!" sighed Amanda. "Tristram an' I get awful set in our ways." "Kind o' queer, Mandy, namin' a cat for your grandfather," Mrs. Benson observed anxiously as she opened the door. "William an' me don't want you to get queer."