In Deacon Dickenson's store a knot of the talkers were gathered around the stove, having a final talk and warm-up previous to starting their sleds homeward to their supper of pork-and-beans and doughnuts. Our mournful friend, Deacon Peasley, sat in his usual drooping attitude on a mackerel-keg placed conveniently by the stove; and then, like Beattie's hermit, " ... his plaining begun. Tho' mournful his spirit, his soul was resigned." "I'm sure I hope I don't wanter dictate to the Lord, nor nothin, but _ef_ he should send a turn o' rheumatism on Zeph Higgins, jest afore town-meetin' day--why, seems to me 'twould be a marcy to us all." "I don't see, fer my part," said Tim Hawkins, "why folks need to mind what he says; but they do. He'll do more _agin_ a motion talkin' _fer_ it, than I can do talkin' agin it fer a year. I never see the beat of him--never." "Aint there nobody," said Deacon Peasley, caressing his knee, and looking fondly at the stove door, "that could kind o' go to him, and sort o' set it in order afore him how he henders the very thing he's sot on doin'?" "Guess you don't know him as I do," said Deacon Dickenson, "or you wouldn't 'a' thought o' that." "And now he's gone in with the Democrats, and agin Parson Cushing and the church, it'll be worse 'n ever," remarked Tim Hawkins. "Now, there's Mis' Higgins," said the Deacon; "she can't do nothin' with him; he won't take a word from her; she hez to step round softly arter him, a-settin' things right. Why, Widder Brown, that lives up by the huckleberry pastur' lot, was a-tellin' my wife, last Sunday, how Zeph's turkeys would come a-trampin' in her mowin', and all she could say and do he wouldn't keep 'em to hum. And then when they stole a nest there, Zeph he took the eggs and carried 'em off, 'cause he said the turkeys was hisn. Mis' Higgins, she jest put on her bonnet, and went right over, that arternoon, and took the turkey eggs back to the widder. Mis' Brown said Mis' Higgins didn't _say_ a word, but she _looked_ consid'able--her eyes was a-shinin' and her mouth sort o' set, as ef she'd about come to the eend of her patience." "Wal," said Deacon Peasley, "I rather wonder she durst to do it." "Wal," said Tim, "my wife sez that there _is_ places where Mis' Higgins jest takes her stand, and Zeph has to give in. Ef she gets her back agin a text in the Bible, why, she won't stir from it ef he killed her; and when it comes to that Zeph hez to cave in. Come to standin'--why she kin stand longer 'n he kin. I rather 'xpect he didn't try to git back them turkey eggs. Ef he did, Mis' Higgins would 'a' stood right in the road, and he'd 'a' hed to 'a' walked over her. I 'xpect by this time Zeph knows what he kin make her do and what he can't."