She still has a weakness for hot gingerbread and mince pie, and, though she is turned of seventy, would walk a mile any afternoon with such an inducement.
Should any of my readers at any time visit the small town of Sparta, and encounter in the street a little old lady dressed in a brown cloak and hood, and firmly grasping in her right hand a faded blue cotton umbrella, they may feel quite certain that they are in the presence of Mrs.Mehitabel Payson, relict of Jeremiah Payson, deceased.
Little Pomp has improved very much both in his studies and his behavior.
He now attends school regularly, and is quite as far advanced as most boys of his age.

Though he is not entirely cured of his mischievous propensities, he behaves "pretty well, considering," and is a great deal of company to old Chloe, to whom he reads stories in books lent him by Frank and others.

Chloe is amazingly proud of Pomp, whom she regards as a perfect prodigy of talent.
"Lor' bress you, missus," she remarked to Mrs.Frost one day, "he reads jest as fast as I can talk.

He's an awful smart boy, dat Pomp." "Why don't you let him teach you to read, Chloe ?" "Oh, Lor', missus, I couldn't learn, nohow.

I ain't got no gumption.