“He didn’t ask Mis’ Pipperidge to come and stay there and help him, nor nothin’ o’ that kind; but he said he’d attend to matters himself. The fact was, the parson had got such a likin’ for havin’ Huldy ’round, that he couldn’t think o’ such a thing as swappin’ her off for the Widder Pipperidge. “‘But,’ he thought to himself, ‘Huldy is a good girl; but I oughtn’t to be a leavin’ everything to her—it’s too hard on her. I ought to be instructin’ and guidin’ and helpin’ of her; ’cause ’tain’t everybody could be expected to know and do what Mis’ Carryl did;’ and so at it he went; and Lordy massy! didn’t Huldy hev a time on’t when the minister began to come out of his study, and wanted to ten ’round and see to things? Huldy, you see, thought all the world of the minister, and she was ’most afraid to laugh; but she told me she couldn’t, for the life of her, help it when his back was turned, for he wuzzled things up in the most singular way. But Huldy, she’d jest say, ‘Yes, sir,’ and get him off into his study, and go on her own way. “‘Huldy,’ says the minister one day, ‘you ain’t experienced out doors; and when you want to know anything, you must come to me.’ “‘Yes, sir,’ said Huldy. “‘Now, Huldy,’ says the parson, ‘you must be sure to save the turkey eggs, so that we can have a lot of turkeys for Thanksgiving.’ “‘Yes, sir,’ says Huldy; and she opened the pantry-door, and showed him a nice dishful she’d been a savin’ up. Wal, the very next day the parson’s hen-turkey was found killed up to old Jim Scroggs’s barn. Folks say Scroggs killed it; though Scroggs, he stood to it he didn’t; at any rate, the Scroggses, they made a meal on’t, and Huldy, she felt bad about it ’cause she’d set her heart on raisin’ the turkeys; and says she, ‘Oh, dear! I don’t know what I shall do, I was just ready to set her.’ “‘Do, Huldy?’ says the parson: ‘why, there’s the other turkey, out there by the door; and a fine bird, too, he is.’ “Sure enough, there was the old tom-turkey a-struttin’ and a-sidlin’, and a-quitterin’, and a-floutin’ his tail feathers in the sun, like a lively young widower, all ready to begin life over again. “‘But,’ says Huldy, ‘you know _he_ can’t set on eggs.’ “‘He can’t? I’d like to know why,’ says the parson. ‘He _shall_ set on eggs, and hatch ’em too.’ “‘Oh, doctor!’ says Huldy, all in a tremble; ’cause, you know, she didn’t want to contradict the minister, and she was afraid she should laugh—‘I never heard that a tom-turkey would set on eggs.’ [Illustration: “SHE FOUND OLD TOM A-SKIRMISHIN’ WITH THE PARSON.”] “‘Why, they ought to,’ said the parson, getting quite ’arnest. ‘What else be they good for? You just bring out the eggs, now, and put ’em in the nest, and I’ll make him set on ’em.’