"You are, eh? Well, clear yourself--no, come back; go down to Oatmeal's store, and tell him to let old Mrs. Dougherty, and the old blind man, and the sailor's wife, and--and--the rest of them, have their groceries, again, this week--only another week, mind, for I'm not going to support the whole neighborhood any longer--tell him so." "Yis, massa, I'se gone." "Wait, come here, Banquo; well, never mind--clear out." But Banquo returned in a moment, saying: "Dar's a lady at the doo-ah, sah; says she wants to see you, sah, 'bout 'ticlar business, sah." "Is, eh? Well, call her into the parlor, I'll be down--ah-h, that infernal _twinge_ again, ah-h-h-h, ah-h! What a stupid ass a man is to hang around in this world until he's a nuisance to himself and every body else!" grunted old Job, as he groped his way down stairs, and into the parlor. "Good morning, ma'am," said he, as he confronted the widow, who, in the utmost taste of simple neatness, had arranged her spare dress, to meet the umpire of her future fate. Mrs. Glenn respectfully acknowledged the salutation, and at once opened her business to the bluff old man. "Yes, yes; I'm a poor, unfortunate creature, ma'am; I'm nothing, nobody, any more. I want somebody to see that I'm not robbed, or poisoned, and that I may have a bed to lie upon, and a clean piece of linen to my back occasionally, and a--that's all I want, ma'am." The widow feigned to hope she knew the duties of a housekeeper, and situated as she was, it was a labor of love to work--toil, for those misfortune had placed in her charge. "Eh? what's that--haven't got _incumbrances_, have you, ma'am?" "I have three children, sir," meekly said the widow. "Three children?" gruffly responded the old gentleman; "ah, umph, what business have you, ma'am, with three children?" [Illustration: "Three children?" gruffly responded the old gentleman. "Ah, umph, what business have you, ma'am, with three children?"--_Page_ 393.] The widow, not apparently able to answer such a poser, the old gentleman continued: "Poor widows, poor people of any kind, have no business with _incumbrances_, ma'am; no excuse at all, ma'am, for 'em." "So, alas!" said Mrs. Glenn, "I find the world too--too much inclined to reason; but I shall trust to the mercy and providence of the Lord, if denied the kind feelings of mortals." "Ah, yes, yes, that's it, ma'am; it's all very fine, ma'am; but too many poor, foolish creatures get themselves in a scrape, then depend upon the Lord to help 'em out. This shifting the responsibility to the shoulders of the Lord isn't right. I don't wonder the Lord shuts his ears to half he's asked to do, ma'am." "Well, sir, I thought I would _call_, though I feared my children would be an objection to--" "Yes, yes,--I don't want incumbrances, ma'am." "But I--I a--"--the widow's heart was too full for utterance; she moved towards the door. "Good morning, sir."