"Yes."
"Did you fetch her home?"
"No, I didn't!" Some mild exasperation animated his tone at last. The Widder detected it, and occupied herself with her tooth.
"My soul an' body! I wonder if it's goin' to grumble all night long!" she exclaimed, bending lower over the blaze. "I've tried everything but a roasted raisin, an' I b'lieve I shall come to that."
Heman rose, and opened the clock on the mantel; he drew forth the key from under the pendulum, and slowly wound up the time-worn machinery. In another instant, he would be on his way to bed; the Widder knew she must waste no time in hurt silence, if she meant to find out anything. She began hastily,—
"Did they say anything about the church fair?"
"They ain't goin' to have it."
"Not have it! Well, how be they goin' to git the shinglin' paid for?"
"They've got up the idee of an Old Folks' Concert."
"Singin'?"