"No, indeed; it's dig, dig, dig, and work, work, work."
"Take off yore shawl an' set down, Sallie. It's a wonder you don't take yore death o' cold or git plum full o' neuralgy, a-runnin' around in this weather with nothin' but a shawl over yore head."
"La, Miss Hester, they say that worthless people's hard to kill. It ain't allus true, though, fur there was poor Margar't Brent, she was n't worth much, but my! she went out like a match."
"Yes, but matches don't go out until their time ef they're held down right; an' it 's jest so with people."
"That's true enough, Miss Hester. Was you to Margar't's funeral?"
"Oh, yes, I went."
"Did you go out to the cimetery?"
"Oomph huh."
"Did she look natural?"
"Jest as natural as one could expect after a hard life an a hard death."
"Pore Margar't!" Mrs. Martin sighed. There was a long and embarrassed silence. Miss Prime's lips were compressed, and she seemed more aggressively busy than usual. She bustled about as if every minute were
