"Why, I thought you said you seen him," she said; "you certainly give me that impression, Mrs. Lathrop. I 'd have took any vow anywhere as I asked you if you seen him 'n' you said you did. It's funny if you did n't for he drove hisself in 'n' hitched hisself too, 'n' me up in the garret when he done it, foldin' off my curtains to iron. My, to think how I did hate the idea o' ironin' them curtains! Mother always ironed the curtains. She said I was young n' she did n't mind anyhow. I ain't washed 'em since. I 've been in the habit o' sayin' I was afraid it'd bring mother over me too much to take 'em down without her. That 's a thing as this community can easy understand, f'r they leave all their hard work layin' around for any reason a tall, and although I can't in reason deny as in most ways they 're as different from me as anything can be from me, still when it comes to ironin' curtains the stove is as hot on the just as on the unjust 'n' you can't mention nothin' hotter."
"Did you—" said Mrs. Lathrop, sympathetically.
"Well, I sh'd say I did. What I set out to do I always do whether it's curtains or Mr. Kimball. Mr. Kimball has got a great idea as to his sharpness, but I guess if our sharp ends was under a microscope, he 'd be the needle an' me the bee-sting most every day. It was too bad you was n't to that lecture, Mrs. Lathrop,—I did learn a great deal. Not just about the sting, but some very handy things. It seems if you go among 'em quietly, they 'll let you take the honey out any time 'n' you can buy the queens by mail in a box 'n' they 'll lay a whole hive alone by themselves in no time. Mrs. Macy said she thought some of sendin' for one or two queens 'n' settin' 'em up in business in bushel baskets, but when she went home 'n' looked the baskets over 'n' thought what work it'd be to clean the honey out of 'em each fall she give up the idea. She's going to set out a orange tree in a flower pot instead. It says in the 'Ladies' Home Diary' as they grow very nicely so."
"But who—" interrupted Mrs. Lathrop, wrinkling up her face somewhat over the long strain on her eager attentiveness.
"But I thought you said you seen him," said her friend, with a second recurrence of her surprised expression; "did n't you see him when you see him drivin' in? He was holdin' the reins at the big end o' the whip, I should suppose. I can't well see how you saw everythin' else without seein' him. He was some better dressed 'n' usual but it just shows what bein' left a widower does for a man. It seems to somehow put new spirit in 'em 'n' sets 'em to wearin' ties again. Why, do you know when he come to go he actually asked me to ride a piece with him 'n' show him which finger-post to turn in to, an' I will say as, where I would n't of dreamed o' ridin' with him a week ago, I went to-day an' really enjoyed it. Yes, I did."
"Was it—" cried Mrs. Lathrop, with a sudden gleam of intuition.
Susan looked surprised for the third time.
"Why, of course," she said, "who else could it be?" Then she left her position near the door, came over nearer to her friend, took a chair and began to untie her bonnet.
"I don't know as I 'm surprised over your bein' surprised, Mrs. Lathrop," she continued in a slightly milder tone after a brief pause for vocal renovation. "I will confess as I was really nothin' but surprised myself. I supposed as a matter o' course that to-day he was in Meadville buryin' her, 'n' when I first see him the funeral was so strong in my mind as I thought he'd druv over to maybe borrow father's black bow for his front door. I made my mind right up to tell him straight to his face as he couldn't have it, for I told you once as I was keepin' that bow for you, Mrs. Lathrop, an' when I promise anybody anythin' I keep my word, whether it's a receipt or a bow for their own funeral, an' when I saw old man Ely it didn't take me no two minutes to keep my word the same as ever,—'n' father's black bow too. But laws, he was n't after no bow!—I very quickly found out as all as he was after was the funeral, f'r it seems as they was uncommonly spry with it. He told me right off as they had it pretty prompt too, for he says when it comes to buryin' a wife there 's no need for a man to go slow, 'n' so he had all Meadville up with the lark 'n' out after old Mrs. Ely. He seemed to feel all of a sudden as it was a little awkward me not havin' been there, but I saw how he felt 'n' made his mind easy by tellin' him frank 'n' open that it was n't nothin' agin his wife as kept me here, for when it come right square down to it I did n't know any one as I 'd enjoy their funeral more 'n gettin' my curtains ironed; an' I may in truth repeat to you as that 's so, Mrs. Lathrop, for although it may seem hard at first hearin', still we both know what it is to iron curtains, 'n' my motto always is as a live lion has rights above a dead dog, and the proverb says as the dead is always ready to bury the dead anyhow. Old man Ely seemed to look on it much as I did, for he did n't fiddle about none with his affairs, but came right to the point an' told me fair an' square as, not havin' anythin' particular on hand after it was over, an' seein' clear as he was three miles out of his way anyhow, he 'd thought he 'd come on as far as Pete Sanderson's 'n' see about a cow as he 'd heard Pete had, 'n' then after that it looked to him like it was pretty much a day for odd jobs straight through, so he come over here to get some graftin's from our grape-vine. He said as father 'd told him once as he could have some graftin's from the porch-vine if he 'd come and cut 'em, 'n' so he was come. I told him as when it was n't nothin' more important than grape-vines father's words was ever my laws; so he went out 'n' cut some pieces from the Virginia creeper an' come in perfectly satisfied, 'n' I may in confidence remark as I was satisfied too for I was n't overpleased to have him meddlin' with the porch-vine. I will remark, though, as his cuttin' Virginia creeper for grape-vines did amuse me some, for it's been a well-known fact for years as Mrs. Ely was Mr. Ely in everythin' but the clothes he wore, 'n' they say the way she managed to figger-head him through plantin' 'n' harvest, 'n' pasture 'n' punkins, was nothin' short of genius, bred in the bone 'n' bustin' out every seam.
"Howsomesoever, he stayed 'n' stayed 'n' I ironed 'n' ironed, 'n' we talked about the farm 'n' father 'n' how well he remembered father 'n' what a good daughter I was 'n' what a good wife Mrs. Ely was 'n' how well he was goin' to bear it, 'n' I begun to wonder when he was intendin' to go or whether he was thinkin' of stayin' all day, 'n' at last there was nothin' but to ask him to dinner, 'n' I was n't intendin' to have no dinner on a'count o' the curtains. It's a very hard thing, Mrs. Lathrop, when you're not intendin' to have dinner to have to invite company for it, but there did n't seem no way to help it. I could n't in decency more than mention as Mrs. Brown was to home an' I knowed as the Fishers was give to Irish stew on Tuesdays, but no, sir, there he sat like a bump on a log 'n' in the hind end I could n't but ask him to stay 'n' have just cold pork 'n' beans on a'count o' the funeral. 'N' so he stayed. I set my irons back with a heavy heart 'n' said it seemed like some days misfortunes never come single, for I 'd already seen a water-bug in the kitchen that very mornin'; but he seemed to have decided to be thick-skinned, so I put on the tea-kettle 'n' brought out the pork 'n' beans 'n' we sat down to eat."