After an appreciative silence within, the whisper finally arose once more: "But he paid her off pretty well." "Dew tell!" "She took 'n' hid his pipe one day, and her clo's was hangin' out on the line--she wears the mos' beautiful, 'labberotest-trimmed clo's you ever see--so what does he do but go an' git a padlock an' padlocked them clo's onto the line. 'When you git me my pipe,' says he, 'I'll unlock your wardrobe,' says he." "Wal, I never! Ain't them ructions!" "Did the peddler come around to your house this month?" "He did so. I bought a pictur' 't was named 'Logan.' It's a fancy skitch, I guess, 'but I'm goin' to have that pictur', Cap'n Nason Ted,' says I, 'ef 't takes every egg the hens is ekil to from now t' deer-stalkin',' says I. It jest completely drored me somehow; it had sech a feelin' look." "Did Nason let ye buy it?" "Yis, he did; but he was dreadful sneakish an' j'ilous. 'It's jest a fancy skitch,' says he; "'tain't nothin' 't ever slammed around in shoes,' says he." "I bought a pair o' black stockings," said the voice of a young matron. "I remember 'cause I wore 'em the very day that Johnny swallowed six buttons--and _smut!_--wal----" A picture too dark for the imagination was relieved by the hum of a discussion now bravely finding voice on the male side of the house. "There's some difference in the price of a hoss afore blueberryin' and after blueberryin', I can tell ye." "All the difference 'twixt black an' white. Wal, thar's mos' things I can do without, but when you find me without a hoss you'll find me done 'ith trouble altogether an' stretched out ca'm an' laid on the cooler." "Skates's raisin' a pretty good colt thar, 'ceptin' 't she's a leetle twisty in her off hin' leg. What do you consider on her worth, Skates?" "I refused two hunderd dollars for 'er last week," said Brother Skates, in a clearly round, secular tone of voice. "Now look a-here, Skates; that stock o' yourn's good workin'-stock, but they're tirrible hard feeders. Ef you've been offered two hunderd dollars for that colt don't you wait 'tell after blueberryin'." "Mebbe you think," said Brother Skates, now firmly established on both boots, "'t I'm as green as a yaller cucumber!" "Look out thar, Shamgar!" rang through the windows. "Give me sea-room here!--give me sea-room!"--we saw and heard the preparatory swinging of Captain Pharo's mallet--"cl'ar the way thar, Shamgar; for by the everlastin' clam, I'm a-goin' to give ye a clip that'll send ye t' the west shore o' Machias!" A mighty concussion followed. Elder Skates, as if reminded by these thunders of his duty, blushed deeply with shame and penitence. "Vesty," he pleaded tremulously, "will you start 'Carried by the Angels'?" Vesty went to the little organ.