"Oh, yes, she's better off," said Nabby, getting up and shaking her dress as if to shake off the very thought of death. A warm, strong, glowing creature she was, as full of earth-life as the fire-lilies they had been gathering. She seemed a creature made for this world and its present uses, and felt an animal repulsion to the very thought of death. "Come, Dolly," she said, briskly, as she counted the last toll, "we can't wait another minute." "Well, Dolly," said Mis' Persis, "tell your mother I'm a comin' this year to make up her candles for her, and the work sha'n't cost her a cent. I've been tryin' out a lot o' bayberry wax to put in 'em and make 'em good and firm." "I'm sure you are very good," said Dolly, with instinctive politeness. "I want to do my part towards supportin' my minister," said Mis' Persis, "and that's what I hev to give." "I'll tell my mother, and I know she'll thank you," answered Dolly, as they turned homeward. The sun was falling lower and lower toward the west. The long shadows of the two danced before them on the dusty road. After walking half a mile they came to a stone culvert, where a little brawling stream crossed the road. The edges of the brook were fringed with sweet-flag blades waving in the afternoon light, and the water gurgled and tinkled pleasantly among the stones. "There, Dolly," said Nabby, seating herself on a flat stone by the brook, "I'm goin' to rest a minute, and you can find some of them sweet-flag 'graters' if you want." This was the blossom-bud of the sweet flag, which when young and tender was reckoned a delicacy among omnivorous children. "Why, Nabby, I thought you were in such a hurry to get home," said Dolly, gathering the blades of sweet-flag and looking for the "graters." "No need of hurry," said Nabby, "the sun's an hour and a half high," and she leaned over the curb of the bridge and looked at herself in the brook. She took off her sun-bonnet and fanned herself with it. Then she put a bright spotted fire-lily in her hair and watched the effect in the water. It certainly was a brilliant picture, framed by the brown stones and green rushes of the brook. "Oh, Nabby," cried Dolly, "look! There's the stage and Hiel coming down the hill!" "Sure e-nough!" said Nabby, in a tone of proper surprise, as if she had expected anything else to happen on that road at that time of the afternoon. "As true as I live and breathe it is Hiel and the stage," she added, "and not a creature in it. Now, we'll get a ride home." Nabby's sun-bonnet hung on her arm; her hair fell in a tangle of curls around her flushed cheeks as she stood waiting for Hiel to come up. Altogether she was a picture. That young man took in the points of the view at once and vowed in his heart that Nabby was the handsomest girl upon his beat. "Waitin' for me to come along?" he said as he drew up. "Well, you're sort o' handy now and then," said Nabby. "We've been huckleberrying all the afternoon, and are tired."