"Oh, she come back! He knew she would. She stayed with her folks a spell, and they reasoned with her; and then she saw the notice in the paper, and that made her so mad she run all the way home. Uncle Ithe was settin' in the kitchen smokin' his pipe, at peace with all mankind, when she run in, all out of breath, and mad as hops. 'You take that notice out the paper, Ithuriel Butters!' she hollers. 'You're the meanest actin' man ever I see in my life, and the ugliest, and so I've come to tell you.' And then she couldn't say another word, she'd run that fast and was that mad. "Uncle Ithe took his pipe out of his mouth, and turned round and give her a look, and then put it back. "'How do, Drusilly?' he says. 'I was lookin' for you,' he says. 'I'm on the last pie now.' And that was every word he said about it, or she, either." CHAPTER V. IN MISS PENNY'S SHOP The Reverend John Bliss walked homeward, revolving many things. Seth's stories, the vexed question of prayer-meetings, the Second Epistle to the Hebrews, from which his text was taken, Mrs. Tree's will, and the New England character (Mr. Bliss was a Minnesota man) made an intricate network of thought which so absorbed his mind that his feet carried him whithersoever they would. "A tangled skein!" he said aloud, shaking his head; "a tangled skein!" and then he stopped abruptly, looked about him, and began to retrace his steps hurriedly. He had forgotten the pink worsted. The little minister entered Miss Penny Pardon's shop with an air of nervous apology, and an inward shiver. He hated women's shops; he was always afraid of seeing crinoline, or hair-curlers, or some other reprehensibly feminine article. "Why will they?" he murmured to himself, as even now his unwilling eye lighted on a "Fluffy Fedora." "Why will--oh, good morning, Miss Pardon; a beautiful morning after the rain." "Good mornin', Mr. Bliss!" said Miss Penny, with a beaming smile. "You're quite a stranger, ain't you? Yes, sir, 'tis elegant weather; and the rain, too, so seasonable yesterday. I think weather most always _is_ seasonable right along; far as I've noticed, that is. Pleasant to see spring comin', isn't it, Mr. Bliss? Not but what I've enjoyed the winter, too, real well. I think the snow's real pretty, specially _in_ winter. That's right; yes, sir, we should be thankful for all. Was there anything I could do for you to-day, Mr. Bliss?" "Yes! yes, Miss Pardon," said Mr. Bliss, nervously. "I--that is--Mrs. Bliss desired some pink--pink--worsted, I think it was. Yes, I am quite positive it was pink worsted. Have you the article?" He looked relieved, and met Miss Penny's eye almost hardily. "Worsted, sir? Yes, indeed, we keep it. What kind did she wish, Mr. Bliss? Single zephyr, do you think it was, or Germantown?" Miss Penny's tone was warmly sympathetic; she always felt for gentlemen who came on such errands. "They feel like a fish on a sidewalk," she would say; "real homesick!"