“Better keep her a steppin’,” urged thrifty Mrs. Fanny.  “She’ll stiffen up master, an’ disapp’int ye, come spring.”

“You’ll have me, now, won’t ye, sartin?” pleaded Jefferson, to make sure.  “You ain’t one o’ them that plays with a man’s feelin’s.  Say right out you’ll have me.”

“I s’pose I shall have to,” said Mrs. Tobin somewhat mournfully.  “I feel for Mis’ Peak an’ Mis’ Ash, pore creatur’s.  I expect they’ll be hardshipped.  They’ve always been hard-worked, an’ may have kind o’ looked forward to a little ease.  But one on ’em would be left lamentin’, anyhow,” and she gave a girlish laugh.  An air of victory animated the frame of Mrs. Tobin.  She felt but twenty-five years of age.  In that moment she made plans for cutting her Briley’s hair, and making him look smartened-up and ambitious.  Then she wished that she knew for certain how much money he had in the bank; not that it would make any difference now.  “He needn’t bluster none before me,” she thought gayly.  “He’s harmless as a fly.”

“Who’d have thought we’d done such a piece of engineerin’, when we started out?” inquired the dear one of Mr. Briley’s heart, as he tenderly helped her to alight at Susan Ellen’s door.

“Both on us, jest the least grain,” answered the lover.  “Gimme a good smack, now, you clever creatur’;” and so they parted.  Mr. Bailey had been taken on the road in spite of his pistol.

* * * * *

Going to Shrewsbury

The train stopped at a way station with apparent unwillingness, and there was barely time for one elderly passenger to be hurried on board before a sudden jerk threw her almost off her unsteady old feet and we moved on.  At my first glance I saw only a perturbed old countrywoman, laden with a large basket and a heavy bundle tied up in an old-fashioned bundle-handkerchief; then I discovered that she was a friend of mine, Mrs. Peet, who lived on a small farm, several miles from the village.  She used to be renowned for good butter and fresh eggs and the earliest cowslip greens; in fact, she always made the most of her farm’s slender resources; but it was some time since I had seen her drive by from market in her ancient thorough-braced wagon.

The brakeman followed her into the crowded car, also carrying a number of packages.  I leaned forward and asked Mrs. Peet to sit by me; it was a great pleasure to see her again.  The brakeman seemed relieved, and smiled as he tried to put part of his burden into the rack overhead; but even the flowered carpet-bag was much too large, and he explained that he would take care of everything at the end of the car.  Mrs. Peet was not large herself, but with the big basket, and the bundle-handkerchief, and some possessions of my own we had very little spare room.

“So this ‘ere is what you call ridin’ in the cars!  Well, I do declare!” said my friend, as soon as she had recovered herself a little.  She looked pale and as if she had been in tears, but there was the familiar gleam of good humor in her tired old eyes.