do, and every one so mean, I'd die as glad as not, out of spite."

"I wouldn't want to die," said Miss Beal slowly. "It's too awful. I
want to stay alive, looking around."

"You're just as curious," said Mrs. Grumble. "Well, there, I'm not.
Men are a bad lot. You can't trust a one of them. Not for long."

"Yes," sighed Miss Beal, "there's a good deal I want to see. I'd like
to see Niagara Falls, Mrs. Grumble."

"Lor'," said Mrs. Grumble, "a lot of water."

"All coming down," said the dressmaker, "crashing and falling."

"I'd rather see a circus," declared Mrs. Grumble.

"Would you now?" asked Miss Beal, and her fingers ran in and out, in
and out, faster than ever, "would you, now? Well, then . . . there's a
fair at Milford this blessed afternoon."

"Would you go along?" asked Mrs. Grumble.

"Glory," said Miss Beal.

"I was going anyhow," said Mrs. Grumble.

Then Miss Beal began to giggle. "Well, I declare," she remarked, "I
feel that young."