"'Well,' she says, 'supposin'. Are we runnin' this paper or ain't we? There's nothin' to prevent our writin' editorials about these things, as I see. Our husbands can't very well sue us for libel, because they'd hev to pay it themselves. Nor they can't put us in prison for debt, because who'd get their three meals? I can't see but we're sure of an interestin' paper, anyway.' "Then she looked over at me sort of sad. "'Go on, Calliope,' says she, 'you know what you've got to do. Do it,' she says, 'to the bitter end.' "I knew, and I started out, and I made straight for Silas Sykes, and the post-office store. Silas wan't in the store, it was so early; but he had the floor all sprinkled nice, and the vegetables set out, all uncovered, close to the sidewalk; and everything real tasty and according to grocery-store etiquette. The boy was gone that day. And Silas himself was in the back room, sortin' over prunes. "'Hello, Calliope,' s'he. 'How's literchoor?' "'Honest as ever,' I says. 'Same with food?' "'Who says I ain't honest?' says Silas, straightening up, an' holding all his fingers stiff 'count of being sticky. "'Why, I donno who,' says I. 'Had anybody ought to? How's business, Silas?' "'Well,' says he, 'for us that keeps ourselves up with the modern business methods, it's pretty good, I guess.' "'Do you mean pretty good, Silas, or do you mean pretty paying?' I ask' him. "Silas put on his best official manner. 'Look at here,' s'e, 'what can I do for you? Did you want to buy somethin' or did you want your mail?' "'Oh, neither,' I says. 'I want some help from you, Silas, about the paper to-day.' "My, that give Silas a nice minute. He fairly weltered in satisfaction. "'Huh,' he says, elegant, 'didn't I tell you you was bitin' off more'n you could chew? Want some assistance from me, do you, in editin' this paper o' yours? Well, I suppose I can help you out a little. What is it you want me to do for you?' "'We thought we'd like to write you up,' I told him. "Silas just swelled. For a man in public office, Silas Sykes feels about as presidential as anybody I ever see. If they was to come out from the City and put him on the front page of the morning paper, he's the kind that would wonder why they hadn't done it before. "'Sketch of my life?' s'e, genial. 'Little outline of my boyhood? Main points in my career?' "'Well,' I says, 'no. We thought the present'd be about all we'd hev room for. We want to write up your business, Silas,' I says, 'in an advertising way.' "'Oh!' says Silas, snappy. 'You want me to pay to be wrote up, is that it?' "'Well,' I says, 'no; not if you don't want to. Of course everybody'll be buried in the Cemetery whether they give anything towards the fund for keeping it kep' up or not.' "'Lord Heavens,' says Silas, 'I've had that Cemetery fund rammed down my throat till I'm sick o' the thought o' dyin'.'