"And this bitter weather, too! Oh, Keziah, what did thee do?" asked Mrs. Coffin, in a tearful voice. "Why, I went up to the bedside, (ef you may call it so,) an' said, sez I, 'Why, Lor' sakes, Mr. Widdrinton,'----an' then I hild up, for I ketchcd a sight of his face, an' I thought he wuz gone for sartin. He wuz as cold an' as white as that 'ere snow, an' it warn't till I'd felt of his heart an' foun' that it beat a little that I thought of sich a thing as his comin' to. But as soon as I found he'd got a breath o' life in him, I didn't waste much time till I'd got him wropped up in a hot blanket with a jug o' water to his feet, an' some hot tea inside on him. Then he come to a little, an' said he hadn't eat nor drank for two days an' nights." "Oh, Keziah!" sobbed Mrs. Coffin; while her husband, plunging his hands deep into his breeches-pockets, and elevating his eyebrows till they were lost in his shaggy hair, exclaimed,-- "Good Je-hosaphat!" which was the nearest approach to an oath in which he ever indulged. "An' so," pursued the widow, after enjoying for a moment the consternation of her audience,--"an' so I thought I had better come an' see ef he couldn't be took in here; not that I wouldn't do for him, an' be glad to, fur as I could, but he a'n't in a state to be left alone, an' you know my trade takes me away consid'able from home,--an' which, if I don't foller it, why, when I git a little older, I shall have to come here myself, an' be a burden on your hands an' the town's." "We would take good care of thee, if thee did come, Keziah," said Mrs. Coffin, in whom the habitual equanimity of the "Friend" had conquered the emotion of the woman. "Though I do not deny that it is pleasanter and better for thee to support thyself, as thee always has done." "I don't doubt you would be good to me, Miss Coffin, an' thank ye, Ma'am, kindly for a-sayin' of it; but you know innerpendance is sweet to all on us." "Surely, surely, Keziah; and now, Phineas, I suppose thee will see at once about this poor man, won't thee?" "Yes, Marthy, yes. I'll go right off and see one of the selectmen; and I reckon, by the time you git a bed ready for him, we shall be along." Phineas accordingly bustled out of the room; and Mrs. Janes, after lingering a few moments, took her leave and returned to her charge, inwardly congratulating herself on having so new and interesting a piece of intelligence with which to lighten her next day's "tailoring." Mrs. Coffin, left alone, stood for a moment considering, and then, opening a door, called gently,-- "Faith!" "Yes, mother," replied a voice whose soft tones seemed the echo of her own. A moment after, a slender, dark-eyed girl, about twenty years of age, entered the room, and said cheerfully,-- "What is it, mother?" "I have somewhat to tell thee, Faith." And the Quakeress repeated, in calm, unemphatic language, the story narrated by Mrs. Janes.