And he ain't got the true secret of mixing, though he charges as much as me that has, and more if he can get it.

Here's a match, and now where's the candle?
If my cough takes me, I shall cough out twenty matches afore I gets a light.' But she finds the candle, and lights it, before the cough comes on.

It seizes her in the moment of success, and she sits down rocking herself to and fro, and gasping at intervals: 'O, my lungs is awful bad! my lungs is wore away to cabbage-nets!' until the fit is over.

During its continuance she has had no power of sight, or any other power not absorbed in the struggle; but as it leaves her, she begins to strain her eyes, and as soon as she is able to articulate, she cries, staring: 'Why, it's you!' 'Are you so surprised to see me ?' 'I thought I never should have seen you again, deary.

I thought you was dead, and gone to Heaven.' 'Why ?' 'I didn't suppose you could have kept away, alive, so long, from the poor old soul with the real receipt for mixing it.