their elders to pull them out again. I know, for I've seen it, father
and son."

"It is the old," said Mr. Jeminy, "who get the young into trouble."

"Is it, indeed?" said Mrs. Ploughman.

"Well, I don't believe it." And she gave Mr. Jeminy a bright, peaked
look.

"Then," she continued, "when you've done for them, year in and year
out, off they go, and that's the end of it."

"Ah, yes," croaked Mrs. Crabbe; "off they go."

"If it isn't one thing," said Mrs. Ploughman, "it's another. Trouble
and death--that's a woman's lot in this world, like the Good Book says."

"Death is the end of everything," remarked Mrs. Crabbe.

"I'm not afraid to die," Mrs. Ploughman declared. "There's things to
do the other side of the grave, same as here. And it's a joy to do
them, in the light of the Lord. I can tell you, Mrs. Crabbe, I won't
be sorry to go. My folks are waiting there for me." Her voice
trembled, and she rocked up and down to compose herself. "He needn't
try to mix me up," she thought to herself; "not in my own home. No."

"Then," said Mr. Jeminy, "you believe in an after life, Mrs. Ploughman?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Ploughman firmly, directing her remarks to Mrs.