"Isn't it time she took her dose?"
"I dessay."
Honor snorted wrathfully. "What's the use of a man?" she inquired, as she carefully measured out the fluid and put it to her sister's lips, which opened to receive it, and then closed tightly again.
"How is your wife feeling now?" Honor asked after a pause.
"How are you, now, Mercy?" asked the old man awkwardly.
The old woman shook her head. "I'm a-goin' fast, Jim," she grumbled weakly, and a tear of self-pity trickled down her parchment cheek.
"What rubbidge she do talk!" cried Honor, sharply. "Why d'ye stand there like a tailor's dummy? Why don't you tell her to cheer up?"
"Cheer up, Mercy," quavered the old man, hoarsely.
But Mercy groaned instead, and turned fretfully on her other side, with her face to the wall.
"I'm too old, I'm too old," she moaned, "this is the end o' me."