Mrs. Wiggs chose the chair which had the least on it, and leaned
back, smiling affably as she remarked: "We 're used to hosses; this
here's the second one we 've had."

"My!" said Miss Hazy, "you muster been well to do!"

"Yes," continued Mrs. Wiggs, "we was--up to the time of the fire.
Did I ever tell you 'bout how Jim brought our other hoss to town?"

Miss Hazy had heard the story a number of times, but she knew the
duties of a hostess.

"It was this a-way," went on Mrs. Wiggs, drawing her chair closer to
the fire, and preparing for a good, long talk. "You see, me an' the
childern was comin' on the steam-car train, but ther' wasn't no way
to git the hoss here, 'ceptin' fer somebody to ride him. Course Jim
said he'd do it. Poor Jim, always ready to do the hard part!" She
paused to wipe her eyes on her apron, and Miss Hazy wept in
sympathy.

"Never min', Miss Wiggs; don't cry. Go on an' tell me what you done
next."

"Well," said Mrs. Wiggs, swallowing the lump in her throat, "Jim
said he'd go. He never had been to the city, an' he was jes' a
little shaver, but I knowed I could trust him."

"I don't see how you could stand to risk it!" exclaimed Miss Hazy.