it was a-coming--and then it came."

It seemed to be all there. Why must she say any more? But still
Aunt Olivia waited, and Rebecca Mary read grim displeasure in
capitals across the gray field of her face. The little figure
stiffened more and more.

"I've over-'n'-overed 'leven sheets," the steady little voice went
on, because Aunt Olivia was waiting, and it must, "and you said I
did 'em pretty well. I tried to. I was going to do the other one
well, till you said there was going to be another dozen. I couldn't
BEAR another dozen, Aunt Olivia, so I decided to stop. When Thomas
Jefferson crowed I sewed the hundred-and-oneth stitch. That's all
there's ever a-going to be."

Rebecca Mary stepped back a step or two, as if finishing a speech
and retiring from her audience. There was even the effect of a bow
in the sudden collapse of the stiff little body. It was Aunt
Olivia's turn now to respond--and Aunt Olivia responded:

"You've had your say; now I'll have mine. Listen to me, Rebecca
Mary Plummer! Here's this sheet, and here's this needle in it.
When you get good and ready you can go on sewing. You won't have
anything to eat till you do. I've got through."

The grim figure swept right-about face and tramped into the house as
though to the battle-roll of drums. Rebecca Mary stayed behind,
face to face with her fate.

"She's a Plummer, so it'll be SO," Rebecca Mary thought, with the