"She used to go round peerin' into his winders when he wa'n't there,
an' one day, arter he'd gone off to trade some steers, she jest spunked
up courage an' went in an' cleaned all up. I see the bed airin', an'
went over an' ketched her at it. She hadn't more'n got through an'
stepped outside when Josh come home, an' what should he do but take the
wheelbarrer an', beat out as he was drivin' oxen five mile, go down to
the gravel-pit an' get a barrerful o' gravel. He wheeled it up to the
side door, an' put a plank over the steps, an' wheeled it right in. An'
then he dumped it in the middle o' his clean floor. That was the last
o' her tryin' to do for him on the sly.

"I should ha' had some patience with him if 'twa'n't for one thing he
done to spite her. Seemed as if he meant to shame her that way afore
the whole neighborhood. He wouldn't speak to her himself, but he sent a
painter by trade to tell her he was goin' to paint the house, an' to
ask her what color she'd ruther have. The painter said she acted sort
o' wild, she was so pleased. She told him yaller; an' Josh had him go
right to work on't next day. But he had her half painted yaller, an'
his a kind of a drab, I guess you'd call it. He sold a piece o' ma'sh
to pay for't. Dr. Parks said you might as well kill a woman with a
hatchet, as the man did down to Sudleigh, as put her through such
treatment. My! ain't it growin' late? Here, let me set back by the
winder. I want to see who goes by, to-day. An' I'll cut my story short.

"Well, they lived jest that way. Lyddy Ann she looked like an old
woman, in a month or two. She looked every minute as old as you do,
Mis' Gridley. Ain't you sixty-nine? Well, she wa'n't but thirty-six.
Her hair turned gray, an' she was all stooped over. Sometimes I thought
she wa'n't jest right. I used to go in to see if she'd go coltsfootin'
with me, or plummin'; but she never'd make me no answer. I recollect