She sobbed like an infant babe, and I came to the buttery door, I was a makin’ some cherry pies and fruit-cake, and I came to the door, with my nutmeg-grater in my hand, and winked at Thomas, not to say another word to hurt her feelin’s. I winked twice or three times at him, real, severe winks. And he took up one of his law books, and went to readin’, and I went back to my cake. But I kep’ one eye out at her, not knowin’ what trouble of mind might lead her into. She kep’ her handkerchief over her eyes and groaned badly for nearly nine minutes, I should judge. And then she spoke out from under it: “Do you call Solomon Cypher good lookin’, Tommy?” “Oh! from fair to middlin’,” says Thomas J. And then she bust out again. “Oh! when I think what a linement Mr. Doodle had on him, how can I think of any other man? I can’t! I can’t!” And she groaned out the loudest she had yet. And Thomas J., feelin’ sorry, I guess, for what he had done, got up, and said, “He guessed he’d go out to the barn, and help his father a spell.” Josiah was puttin’ some new stanchils on the stable. Thomas J. hadn’t more’n got to the barn, and I had finished my cake, and had got my hands into the pie crust, a mixin’ it up, when there came a knock at the door, and my hands bein’ in the condition they was, the widder wipes up, and went to the door, and opened it. It was Solemen Cypher, came to borry my bembazine dress and crape veil for some of the mourners. I made a practice of lendin’ ’em. The veil was one I had mourned for father Allen in, and the dress was one I had mourned for grandmother Smith in. They was as good as new. I thought, seein’ the widder and he was some acquainted with each other, I wouldn’t go out till I had got my pies done. And so I kep’ on a mixin’ up my crust, and pretty soon, I heard him say to her after she had set him a chair, and they had set down, and he had told his errant, says he, “This is a dreadful blow to me, widder.” “Yes,” says she, “I can feel to sympathize with you. I know well what feelin’s I felt, when I lost my Doodle.” Not one word does she say about brother Timothy. But I hold firm, and so does Josiah. We do well by the widder. “I believe you never wus acquainted with the corpse, was you, widder?” says Solemen. “No,” says she. “But I have heard her well spoke of. Sister Samantha wus jest a sayin’ that she was a likely wemen.” “She wus, widder! she wus. My heart-strings was completely wrapped round that wemen. Not a pair of pantaloons have I hired made, sense we wus married, nor a vest. I tell you it is hard to give her up. It is the hardest day’s work, I ever done in my life. Nobody but jest me knows what, for a wemen, she wus. She was healthy, savin’, hard workin’, pious, equinomical. And I never knew how dear she was to me—how I loved her, as I did my own soul, till I see I had got to give her up, and hired a girl at two dollars a week; and they waste more’n their necks are worth.”