“I believe in young folks makin’ all they can o’ theirselves,” announced Martin, puffing hard at his pipe and drawing a little farther still from the fireplace, because the scorching red coals had begun to drop beneath the forestick.  “I’ve give my child’n the best push forrard I could, an’ you’ve done the same.  Ad’line had a dreadful cravin’ to be somethin’ more’n common; but it don’t look as if she was goin’ to make out any great.  ‘Twas unfortunate her losin’ of her husband, but I s’pose you’ve heard hints that they wa’n’t none too equal-minded.  She’d a done better to have worked on a while to Lowell and got forehanded, and then married some likely young fellow and settled down here, or to the Corners if she didn’t want to farm it.  There was Jim Hall used to be hanging round, and she’d been full as well off to-day if she’d took him, too.  ’T ain’t no use for folks to marry one that’s of another kind and belongs different.  It’s like two fiddles that plays different tunes,—­you can’t make nothin’ on’t, no matter if both on em’s trying their best, ’less one on ’em beats the other down entirely and has all the say, and ginerally ’t is the worst one does it.  Ad’line’s husband wa’n’t nothin’ to boast of from all we can gather, but they didn’t think alike about nothin’.  She could ‘a’ done well with him if there’d been more of her.  I don’t marvel his folks felt bad:  Ad’line didn’t act right by ’em.”

“Nor they by her,” said the twin brother.  “I tell ye Ad’line would have done ’em credit if she’d been let.  I seem to think how’t was with her; when she was there to work in the shop she thought ’t would be smart to marry him and then she’d be a lady for good and all.  And all there was of it, she found his folks felt put out and hurt, and instead of pleasing ’em up and doing the best she could, she didn’t know no better than to aggravate ’em.  She was wrong there, but I hold to it that if they’d pleased her up a little and done well by her, she’d ha’ bloomed out, and fell right in with their ways.  She’s got outward ambitions enough, but I view it she was all a part of his foolishness to them; I dare say they give her the blame o’ the whole on’t.  Ad’line ought to had the sense to see they had some right on their side.  Folks say he was the smartest fellow in his class to college.”

“Good King Agrippy! how hot it does git,” said Jake rising indignantly, as if the fire alone were to blame.  “I must shove back the cider again or ’t will bile over, spite of everything.  But ’t is called unwholesome to get a house full o’ damp in the fall o’ the year; ‘t will freeze an’ thaw in the walls all winter.  I must git me a new pipe if we go to the Corners to-morrow.  I s’pose I’ve told ye of a pipe a man had aboard the schooner that time I went to sea?”

Martin gave a little grumble of assent.

“‘Twas made o’ some sort o’ whitish stuff like clay, but ’twa’n’t shaped like none else I ever see and it had a silver trimmin’ round it; ’twas very light to handle and it drawed most excellent.  I al’ays kind o’ expected he may have stole it; he was a hard lookin’ customer, a Dutchman or from some o’ them parts o’ the earth.  I wish while I was about it I’d gone one trip more.”