A man can't--I say, Tempy--a man _can't_ git along while here below, without a woman." She gave my arm a severe pinch as she passed with the ham, and I thought it best to follow her.

Mother looked at her with a smile, and said: "Deal gently with Brother Abram, Temperance." "Brother be fiddlesticked!" she said tartly.

"Miss Morgeson, _do_ you want some quinces ?" "Certainly." "We'll make hard marmalade this year, then.

You shall have the quinces to-morrow." And she retired with a softened face.

I was told that Abram Handy was a widower anxious to take Temperance for a second helpmeet, and that she could not decide whether to accept or refuse him.