Squire Lyman shook his head sorrowfully, and put another stick of wood on the fire. "Mrs. Noonin," said he, "will you have the goodness to shut that door?" Siller shut the door, and walked to the fire with her apron at her eyes. "O dear, O dear, how quick the news has come! Only a little over a fortnight! Here it is a Wednesday. Where was I a Saturday night a fortnight ago? O, a settin' up with old Mrs. Gould, and little did I think--Why, I never was so beat! _Do_ you suppose the Britishers will come over and go to fighting us again? There never was such a man as General Washington! What _shall_ we do without him?" Siller's voice was pitched very high, but she herself supposed she was speaking just above her breath. Mr. Bosworth stamped his snowy boots on the husk mat, and was just taking out his silk handkerchief, when Siller, who knew what a frightful noise he always made blowing his nose, seized his arm and whispered,-- "Hush, we're keeping the house still? I don't know as you know we've got sick folks in the bedroom." As she spoke there was a sudden sharp tinkle of the tea-bell--Mrs. Lyman's bell--and Priscilla ran back at once to her duty. "Where have you been?" said Mrs. Lyman, "and what did I hear you say about George Washington?" There was a fire in the lady's mild, blue eyes, which startled Priscilla. "You've been dozing off, ma'am," said she, soothingly. "I hadn't been gone more'n a minute; but folks does get the _cur'usest_ notions, dreaming like in the daytime." "There, that will do," said the sweet-voiced lady, with a keen glance at the nurse's red eyelids; "you mean well, but the plain truth is always safest. You need not try to deceive me, and what is more, you can't do it, Priscilla." Then the nurse had to tell what she had heard, though it was too sad a story to come to the sick woman's ears; for every man, woman, and child in the United States loved the good George Washington, and must grieve at the news of his death. Mrs. Lyman said nothing, but lay quite still, looking out of the window upon the white fields and the bare trees, till the baby began to cry, and Siller came to take it away. "Bless its little heart," said the nurse, holding it against her tear-wet cheek; "it's born into this world in a poor time, so it is. No wonder it feels bad. Open its eyes and look around. See, Pinky Posy, this is a free country now, and has been for over twenty years; but it's my private opinion it won't stay so long, for the Father of it is dead and gone! O, Mrs. Lyman, what awful times there'll be before this child grows up!" "Don't borrow trouble, Priscilla. The world won't stop because one man is dead. It is God's world, and it moves." "But, Mrs. Lyman, do you think the United States is going to hold together without General Washington?" "Yes, to be sure I do; and my baby will find it a great deal better place to live in than ever you or I have done; now you mark my words, Priscilla."