They expressed their readiness, and Aunt Ailsie brought a stick of light-wood from the kitchen fire, and, followed by the guests, Ruthena, and the eight "young-uns," went into the big bedroom. One end of the stick was fastened in a chink in the wall, and Aunt Ailsie, Ruthena, and the eight settled themselves expectantly on beds and chairs. After waiting some time for them to pass out, Amy and Virginia began in desperation to get ready for the night. Sitting on the edge of the burying-sheet, they first took down their hair and brushed and plaited it. "Now what do you do that for?" inquired Aunt Ailsie; "I never heared of folks combing their hair of a night." "It feels better to sleep with smooth hair." Then began the embarrassing experience of undressing before the fascinated gaze of ten persons. First, the gingham dresses came off, then nightgowns were slipped over heads and bodies, while further disrobing proceeded. The pieces of under-wear, as they were handed forth, one by one, were eagerly examined by Aunt Ailsie and Ruthena. "Never seed so much pretty needle-work in all my days," declared both. "But them stiff-boned waists, what air they?" "Corsets," replied the women. The corsets were passed around, with many exclamations of interest and surprise. "'Pears like hit would be mighty trying to walk around all trussed-up that way," commented Aunt Ailsie. But Ruthena was other-minded. "Maw, I aim to have some myself, right off," she said. "Now, women, them shifts you have got pulled over your heads now--what is the reason for them? I see you tuck off the ones you had been a-wearing." "They are nightgowns." "I sleep in the same I wear of a day." "We like to go to bed in something fresh--it is better for health." "Never heared tell of that before. Do you allus strip off everything you wear of a day?" "Yes." "'Pears like you're a sight of trouble to yourself." "I aim to make me a nightgown, maw, but I won't know how to make no pretty one, like them," sighed Ruthena. "Oh, yes, you will; we'll show you how, and help you," said Amy. The two, being at last undressed, knelt by the bedside to say their prayers. Aunt Ailsie tipped excitedly out of the door and clutched Uncle Lot's arm. "You allowed them was wrong women, and runaway wives," she whispered, "Come watch at 'em down on their knees a-praying, as pretty as angels." She drew him to the door, and he looked on, evidently much impressed. Once or twice he shook his head.