bewailed its loss as a privation of a personal comfort.

"Life's full of disappointments," she groaned. "Our paths is
continually beset by 'em. There's that sofa! It's so pleasant to
have one in the house when a body's sick. But there, it's gone, and
if I happen to get down, as most likely I shall, for I've got a bad
feeling in my stummick this very minute, I shall have to go
up-stairs, and most likely catch my death of cold, and that will be
the end of me."

"Not so bad as that, I hope," said Mrs. Crump, cheerfully. "You
know, when you was sick last, you didn't want to use the sofa--you
said it didn't lay comfortable. Besides, I hope, before you are sick
again we may be able to buy it back again."

Aunt Rachel shook her head despondingly.

"There ain't any use in hoping that," said she. "Timothy's got so
much behindhand that he won't be able to get up again; I know he
won't."

"But if he manages to get steady work soon, he will."

"No, he won't. I'm sure he won't. There won't be any work before
spring, and most likely not then."

"You are too desponding, Aunt Rachel."

"Enough to make me so. If you had only taken my advice, we shouldn't
have come to this."