"Why, Susan, I never hear as you had one single—"
"Nor me, neither," said the caller,—and then the sluice-gates opened, and the stream swept through and madly on again,—"nor me, neither, Mrs. Lathrop. I never even dreamed o' any such goin's on, 'n' I c'n assure you 's the shock 's come 's heavy on me 's on you. I went up garret this mornin' 's innocent 's a babe whose mother 's yet unborn, 'n' there I found her."
"In the garret!" cried Mrs. Lathrop.
Miss Clegg drew a long breath.
"In a trunk. 'N' jus' 's unexpected 's the comin' o' Judgment Day. Mrs. Lathrop, you c'n believe me or not jus' 's you please, but I give you my Gospel word of honor as when I turned down the flap o' a trunk 'n' see that old mousey letter stuck in it cornerways, I no more thought o' findin' a cousin than I did o' findin' a moth, 'n' you know how scarce moths is with me; I ain't so much 's seen one 'xcept on your side o' the house in twenty years, I do believe. 'N' I could n't in conscience say 's I was pleased when I did see the letter, f'r I thought's like 's not it was a bill, 'n' anyhow I wa'n't inclined to be over-pleased at anythin' this mornin'—I persume you saw how the minister come in on me?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Lathrop, "I see him. What—"
"Wanted to name the baby after me, 'n' I call it a pretty time to come namin' a baby when a woman has got one leg on a ladder 'n' her head tied up for bats. I thought he was the tin-peddler from Meadville, 'n' I run f'r my rag-bag, 'n' then there it was only the minister after all! Well, I was n't pleased a tall, 'n' I did n't ask him in, neither. I stood fair 'n' square in the doorway, 'n' 'f he was 'xpectin' to see me look happy over havin' a compliment paid me, 't was one more time 's he did n't get what he 'xpected. That was what he called it,—'payin' me a compliment,'—'n' I mus' say 's it struck me 's pretty high-flown language f'r jus' simply wantin' to name a thirteenth baby after the richest woman in the c'mmunity. Seems to me thirteen was a good many to wait afore thinkin' o' me anyhow, 'n' I ain't noways sure 's I want a thirteenth baby named after me anyway. I never was foolish like some folks, 'n' you know that 's well 's I do, Mrs. Lathrop, but still you know, too, 's it's never nothin' but safe to keep away fr'm the under side o' ladders 'n' the number thirteen. I 've heard Gran'ma Mullins tell a dozen times 's how 'f she 'd never 'a' gone picnickin' on twice thirteen—that's twenty-six—o' July she 'd never 'a' met her husband, 'n' might o' married Deacon White. They was both after her, 'n' she picked out the wrong one, 'n' first he went to the war 'n' then he went to the dogs, 'n' now there she is in a four-room cottage 'n' Deacon White's wife orderin' a patent ice-box out o' a catalogue 'n' him never sayin' a word. She c'd 'a' took a world o' comfort with his daughter, 'n' I don't believe she takes none to speak o' with Hiram, 'n' anyway I was clean put out with the minister afore I even see him, f'r I can't abide that way he 'n' his wife's both got o' talkin' 'n' talkin' 'n' never gettin' aroun' to sayin' what they set out to. I like folks 's is right quick 'n' sharp, 'n' these roamin', meanderin' kind o' everlastin' talkers ain't my idea a tall. 'N' I 'm free to confess 's I did get some tempered to-day standin' there listenin' to what did n't interest me no more 'n a pussy-willow, 'n' me wild to be rootin' up garret all the time.
"O' course he had to tell me all about the baby, 'n' how Felicia Hemans is jus' come to the silly readin' age 'n' 's wild to name it Brunhilde. Seems 's Felicia Hemans is out for Brunhilde 'n' the minister's out f'r me. I never hear o' no Brunhilde, 'n' I up 'n' told the minister so to his face. 'Who is she anyhow?' I says, flat 'n' plain, for Lord knows 'f he'd found a rich relation I wanted my old flannels for cleanin' cloths hereafter. But he 'xplained 's Felicia Hemans got Brunhilde out o' a book—the Nibble suthin' 'r other. 'Oh, well,' I says, 'if you c'n be suited with namin' your family after rats 'n' mice I guess you c'n leave me out,' I says, 'n' I kind o' backed off so 's to try 'n' set him a-goin', but he stood still, 'n' o' course no true Christian c'n shut her door in her minister's face—even 'f she is stark crazy to get to cleanin' her garret. 'Why don't you name her Minnie after yourself?' I says (Minister, you know), but I c'd see 't he didn't take to that a tall. 'Oh, well,' I says then, feelin' 't I must get rid o' him somehow, 'name her after me 'f you want to 'n' I'll give her—''n' I was jus' goin' to say 'my blessin',' 'n' such a look come over his face 'n'—well, Mrs. Lathrop, maybe I 'm too tender-hearted f'r my own good, but I jus' had the feelin' 't I c'd 's easy pull the legs off o' a live fly 's to disapp'int that face, 'n' so I says 'a dollar' right off quick before I really thought. 'N' what do you think?—what do you think? 'F you 'll believe me he did n't look overly pleased, 'n' at that I did warm up a little. You don't 'xpect much of a minister, 'n' I think as a general rule 't we 're pretty patient with ours, but you do 'xpect gratitude, 'n' a dollar's a dollar, 'n' considerin' the garret into the bargain, I felt my temper comin' pretty high, 'n' I jus' out with what I 'd been thinkin' all along 'n' I spoke the truth flat 'n' plain right to his face. 'I d'n' know,' I says, 'why I sh'd be 'xpected to give your baby more 'n a dollar. She ain't my baby, 'n' you know 's well 's I do where the blame f'r that lies,' 'n' then I banged the door in his face. Maybe it was n't jus' the proper thing to do, but 'f ever a woman had no need for a minister it was me this mornin'."
Susan paused, and Mrs. Lathrop seized the chance to interpose a question.
"'N' about your cousin—"