“I ain’t one to hurry,” he would say genially; “that’s the reason I won’t work by the hour or by the day.  We’ve got one ‘hurrier’ in the family, and that’s enough for Lallie Joy ‘n’ me!  Mis’ Popham does everything right on the dot, an’ Lallie Joy ‘n’ me git turrible sick o’ seein’ that dot, ‘n’ hevin’ our ’tention drawed to it if we don’t see it.  Mis’ Bill Harmon’s another ’hurrier,’—­well, you jest ask Bill, that’s all!  She an’ Mis’ Popham hev been at it for fifteen years, but the village ain’t ready to give out the blue ribbon yet.  Last week my wife went over to Harmon’s and Mis’ Harmon said she was goin’ to make some molasses candy that mornin’.  Well, my wife hurried home, put on her molasses, made her candy, cooled it and worked it, and took some over to treat Mis’ Harmon, who was jest gittin’ her kittle out from under the sink!”

The Careys laughed heartily at this evidence of Mrs. Popham’s celerity, while Osh, as pleased as possible, gave one dab with his paste brush and went on:—­

“Maria’s blood was up one while, ‘cause Mis’ Bill Harmon always contrives to git her wash out the earliest of a Monday morning.  Yesterday Maria got up ’bout daybreak (I allers tell her if she was real forehanded she’d eat her breakfast overnight), and by half past five she hed her clothes in the boiler.  Jest as she was lookin’ out the kitchen winder for signs o’ Mis’ Bill Harmon, she seen her start for her side door with a big basket.  Maria was so mad then that she vowed she wouldn’t be beat, so she dug for the bedroom and slat some clean sheets and piller cases out of a bureau drawer, run into the yard, and I’m blamed if she didn’t get ’em over the line afore Mis’ Harmon found her clothespins!”

Good old Osh!  He hadn’t had such an audience for years, for Beulah knew all its own stories thoroughly, and although it valued them highly it did not care to hear them too often; but the Careys were absolutely fresh material, and such good, appreciative listeners!  Mrs. Carey looked so handsome when she wiped the tears of enjoyment from her eyes that Osh told Bill Harmon if ’t wa’n’t agin the law you would want to kiss her every time she laughed.

Well, the hall papering was, luckily, to be paid for, not by the hour, but by an incredibly small price per roll, and everybody was pleased.  Nancy, Kathleen, and Julia sat on the stairs preparing a whiteweed and buttercup border for the spare bedroom according to a plan of Mother Carey’s.  It was an affair of time, as it involved the delicate cutting out of daisy garlands from a wider bordering filled with flowers of other colors, and proved a fascinating occupation.

Gilbert hovered on the outskirts of the hall, doing odd jobs of one sort and another and learning bits of every trade at which Mr. Popham was expert.