We shall have somebody sitting up a-Thursday nights, I reckon, before long." "Nonsense with your Thursday nights." "Everybody is just alike.

We shall have rain, see if we don't; rain or no rain, I'll whitewash to-morrow." Poor Joe! That night ended my first sentiment.

He died with the measles in less than a month.
"I wish," said Temperance, who was spelling over a newspaper, "that Dr.Snell would come in before the plum-cake is gone, that Hepsey made last.

The old dear loves it; he is always hungry.

I candidly believe Mis Grossman keeps him short." I expected that Temperance would break out then about Joe; but she never mentioned him, except to tell me that she had heard of his death.