“Mebby it will save the minister five dollars a week,” says Ophelia, “as extravagant as she is in dress, as many as four silk dresses she has got, and there’s Baptist folks as good as she is that hain’t got but one--and one certain Baptist person _full_ as good as she is that hain’t got any.” (Ophelia’s best dress is poplin.) “It won’t take her long to run out the minister’s salary.” “She had her silk dresses before she was married, and her folks were wealthy,” says Mrs. Squire Edwards. “As much as we have done for them, and are still doing,” says Lucinda, “it seems ungrateful in her to wear such a bunnet as she wore last summer, a plain white straw, with a little bit of ribbon onto it, not a flower nor a feather, it looked so scrimped and stingy, I have thought she wore it on purpose to mortify us before the Methodists. Jest as if we couldn’t afford to dress our minister’s wife as well as they did theirs.” Maggie Snow’s cheeks was a getting as red as fire, and her eyes began to shine, jest as they did that day she found some boys stonein’ her kitten. She and the minister’s wife are the greatest friends that ever was. And I see she couldn’t hold in much longer. She was jest openin’ her mouth to speak, when the door opened and in walked Betsey Bobbet. “My! it seems to me you are late, Betsey, but walk right into the spare bedroom, and take off your things.” “Things!” says Betsey, in a reckless tone, “who cares for things!” And she dropped into the nearest rocking chair and commenced to rock herself violently and says she “would that I had died when I was a infant babe.” “Amen!” whispered Alzina Jones, to Maggie Snow. Betsey didn’t hear her, and again she groaned out, “Would that I had been laid in yondeh church yard, before my eyes had got open to depravity and wickedness.” “Do tell us what is the matter Betsey,” says Miss Jones. “Yes do,” says Miss Deacon Dobbins. “Matter enuff,” says she, “No wondeh there is earthquakes and jars. I heard the news jest as I came out of our gate, and it made me weak as a cat, I had to stop to every house on the way doun heah, to rest, and not a soul had heard of it, till I told ’em. Such a shock as it gave me, I shant get over it for a week, but it is just as I always told you, I always said the minister’s wife wasn’t any _too_ good. It didn’t surprise me not a bit.” “You can’t tell me one word against Mary Morton that I’ll believe,” says Maggie Snow. “You will admit that the minister went North last Tuesday, won’t you.” Seven wimmin spoke up at once and said: “Yes, his mother was took sick, and telegraphed for him.” “So he said,” said Betsey Bobbet, “so he said, but I believe it is for good.” “Oh dear,” shrieked Ophelia Dagget, “I shall faint away, ketch hold of me, somebody.” “Ketch hold of yourself,” says I coolly, and then says I to Betsey, “I don’t believe he has run away no more than I believe that I am the next President of the United States.”