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"How did thee come into this cart?" asked Orphy, "and why does the Yankee hide thee? Tell us all about it, and be sure not to speak above thy breath." The black child again peeped out of the hole, and looking cautiously round, said, "Are you quite sure the naughty man won't hear us?" "Quite sure," answered Amy; "but is thee boy or girl?"

I never pitied anybody so much since the day the beggars came, which was five years ago last harvest; for I have kept count ever since; and I remember it as well as if it was yesterday. Orphy.

Whilst they were milking, the subsequent dialogue took place between them: Orphy. I know it's not right to notice strangers, and to be sure the man's welcome, but, Amy, did thee ever see anybody take victuals like this Yankee? Amy.

Like all of her sect, whether in town or country, Bulah, the wife of Micajah Warner, was a woman of even temper, untiring industry, and great skill in housewifery. Her daughters, commonly called Amy and Orphy, were neat pretty little Quaker girls, extremely alert, and accustomed from their earliest childhood to assist in the work of the house.

"'Well, whatever she does, I says, 'will she get here this mawnin'? I got to get to the race track. "'I'll call up Orphy an' see, says the old gazink. 'Hello, Tessie, he says, after he grinds away at the telephone handle fur a while. 'Git a-holt of Orphy Shanner fer me out to th' park that's a good girl. In about ten minutes somebody begins to talk over the phone.

And then he has travelled the roads long enough to be sure that he can get a meal for nothing at any house he stops at, as all the tinmen do. He must have seen us looking at his eating so much, and may be his pride is hurt, and so he's made up his mind, all of a sudden, to take his meals no more at people's houses. Amy. Then why can't he stop at a tavern, and pay for his victuals? Orphy.

The father and son had been all day in the meadows, mowing the second crop of grass; Mrs Warner was darning stockings in the porch, with her two daughters knitting on the bench beside her; Amy being then fourteen, and Orphy about twelve.

Moore wanted them to come to his log house, just as fast as their horses legs could carry them. So, in they flocked, Orphy Smith, and Seth Jones, and Pete Parker, and Jesse Jenkins, and Eph. Certainly; didn't I tell you that "farmers had hearts?"

May be he don't want to spend his money in that trifling way. Who knows, he may be saving it up to help an old mother, or to buy back land, or something of that sort? I'll be bound he calculates upon eating nothing to-morrow but what he slipped off from our table. Amy. All he took will not last him a day. It's a pity of him, anyhow. Orphy.

Desire sprang from her chair and ran toward the door, then back again to her seat, with her hands pressed tightly on her heart; then back to the door, as if her straining eye could pierce the darkness. It did, God pity her! What did she see? Her little Willy, quite dead, lying on a litter, carried by Mr. Moore and Orphy. Poor little Willy!