sat down on him (a favorite pastime of hers), and after jolting her fat
little person up and down on his patient head, rolled herself over and
gave him a series of bear-hugs. Timothy looked pale and languid,
Samantha thought, and though Gay waited for a frolic with her most
adorable smile, he only lifted her coral necklace to kiss the place
where it hung, and tied on her sun-bonnet soberly. Samantha wished that
Vilda had been looking out of the window. Her own heart didn't need
softening, but somebody else's did, she was afraid.

"I'm much obliged to you for takin' so much interest in the children,"
said Miss Vilda primly, "and partic'lerly for clearin' our characters,
which everybody that lives in this village has to do for each other
'bout once a week, and the rest o' the time they take for spoilin' of
'em. And the Doctor's wife is very kind, but I shouldn't think o'
sendin' the baby away so sudden while the boy is still here. It
wouldn't be no kindness to Mis' Mayo, for she'd have a regular French
and Indian war right on her premises. It was here the children came,
just as you say, and it's our duty to see 'em settled in good homes, but
I shall take a few days more to think 'bout it, and I'll let her know by
Saturday night what we've decided to do.--That's the most meddlesome,
inteferin', gossipin' woman in this county," she added, as Mrs. Silas
Tarbox closed the front gate, "and I wouldn't have her do another day's
work at this house if I didn't have to. But it's worse for them that
don't have her than for them that does.--Now there's the Baptist
minister drivin' up to the barn. What under the canopy does he want?
Tell him Jabe ain't to home, Samanthy. No, you needn't, for he's
hitched, and seems to be comin' to the front door."

"I never could abide the looks of him," said Samantha, peering over Miss
Vilda's shoulder. "No man with a light chiny blue eye like that oughter