“So Sary went down to the kitchen, an’ brought up a plateful of hot baked beans. Dock Smith raised Bill up in bed, an’ Dock Brainerd put a piller under the small of Bill’s back. Then Sary sat down by the bed, an’ fed them beans into Bill until Bill couldn’t hold any more. “‘How air you feelin’ now?’ asked Dock Smith. “Bill didn’t say nuthin’: he jest smiled sort uv peaceful like, an’ closed his eyes. “‘The end hez come,’ said Dock Brainerd sof’ly; ‘Bill is dyin’.’ “Then Bill murmured kind o’ far-away like (as if he was dreamin’), ‘I ain’t dyin’: I’m dead an’ in heaven.’ “Next mornin’ Bill got out uv bed, an’ done a big day’s work on the farm, an’ he hain’t hed a sick spell since. Them beans cured him! I tell you, sir, that beans is,” etc. _Eugene Field._ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ _THE NICE PEOPLE._ “THEY certainly are nice people,” I assented to my wife’s observation, using the colloquial phrase with a consciousness that it was anything but “nice” English, “and I’ll bet that their three children are better brought up than most of——” “_Two_ children,” corrected my wife. “Three, he told me.” “My dear, she said there were _two_.” “He said three.” “You’ve simply forgotten. I’m _sure_ she told me they had only two—a boy and a girl.” “Well, I didn’t enter into particulars.” “No dear, and you couldn’t have understood him. Two children.” “All right,” I said; but I did not think it was all right. As a near-sighted man learns by enforced observation to recognise persons at a distance when the face is not visible to the normal eye, so the man with a bad memory learns, almost unconsciously, to listen carefully and report accurately. My memory is bad; but I had not had time to forget that Mr. Brewster Brede had told me that afternoon that he had three children, at present left in the care of his mother-in-law, while he and Mrs. Brede took their summer vacation. “Two children,” repeated my wife; “and they are staying with his aunt Jenny.” “He told me with his mother-in-law,” I put in. My wife looked at me with a serious expression. Men may not remember much of what they are told about children; but any man knows the difference between an aunt and a mother-in-law. “But don’t you think they’re nice people?” asked my wife. “Oh, certainly,” I replied; “only they seem to be a little mixed up about their children.” [Illustration: “SEATED THEMSELVES OPPOSITE US AT TABLE.”] “That isn’t a nice thing to say,” returned my wife. I could not deny it. * * * * *