"He went from flightiness," said Miss Prudence. "Him and Homer was both crazy about Mary Ashton, and Pindar asked her to have him. She'd as soon have had the meetin'-house weathercock, and when she told him so,--I don't mean them words; Mary would have spoke pleasant to the Father of Evil." "Why, Sister!" "Well, she would. Anyhow, when she said no, he made sure she was going to have Homer, and off he went, and never come back. So that's _his_ story." "I want to know!" said Miss Penny. "But she never--" "She never cast a look at ary one of 'em. She give her heart to George Jaquith to break, and he done it; and now he's dead, and so is she. But Homer is alive, and so is Pindar, for all I know. He never liked here as Homer did; he always wanted to get away, from a boy. Old Mis' Hollopeter run a great resk, I always thought, the way she brought up those two boys, fillin' their heads with poetry and truck. If she had learned 'em a good trade, now, it would be bread in their mouths this day; not that Homer is ever likely to want now. I wish't he'd marry Bethia Wax." "I don't know, Sister Prudence," said Miss Penny, who was romantic. "Some is cut out for a single life, and I think's it's real pretty to see a man faithful to the ch'ice of his youth." "Ch'ice of his grandmother!" retorted Miss Prudence, sharply. "Don't talk foolishness, Penny! A woman can get along single, and oftentimes do better, and it's meant some of 'em should, or there wouldn't be so many extry; but leave a man alone all his life, and either he dries up or else he sploshes out, and either way he don't amount to what he should. They ain't got enough _to_ 'em, someways. There! this is ready to try on, and Miss Wax ain't here. She said she'd be here by eleven." "I see her comin' now," cried Miss Penny. "It's just on the stroke; she's 'most always punctual. She has a re'l graceful, pretty walk. _I_ think Miss Wax is a fine-lookin' woman, though a little mite more flesh would set good on her." "Her clo'es would set better on her if she had it," said Miss Prudence. "I know that. I don't know but I'd sooner fit a bolster than a bean-pole." "Hush, Sister, for pity's sake! Good mornin', Miss Wax. You're right on the dot, ain't you? I was just sayin' to Sister how punctual you always was. Yes'm, we're smart; the same old story, peace and poverty. You can go right in, Miss Wax; Sister's expectin' you." CHAPTER VI. THE SORROWS OF MR. HOMER "Morning, Direxia," said Will Jaquith. "How is Mr. Homer this morning? Better, I hope, than he was feeling yesterday."