"He was prepared," she resumed, presently, "ef ever a man was. He got religion about forty year ago—that time all the stars fell down, ye know. He'd been ter see his gal, an' was goin' home late, and the stars was a-fallin', and he was took then. He went into a barn, an' begun prayin', an' he ain't never stopped sence."
Again the black-bordered handkerchief was brought into requisition.
"How are the children?" I ventured, after a pause.
"Po'ly!" was the discouraging answer. "Jinny an' Rosy an' John Henry has all had the croup. I've been a-rubbin' of 'em with Radway's Relief an' British ile, an' a-givin' on it to 'em internal, fur two days an' nights runnin'. Both bottles is empty now, and the Lord knows where the next is ter come from, fur we ain't got no credit at the 'pothecary's. He's out o' work ag'in, an' they ain't a stick o' wood in the shed, an' the grocer-man says he wants some money putty soon. Ef my hens would only lay——"
"It was unfortunate," I could not help saying, with a glance at the veil and handkerchief, "that you felt obliged to purchase additional mourning just when things were looking so badly."
She gave me a sharp glance, a glow of something like resentment crept into her face.
"All our family puts on black fur kin, ef it ain't so nigh!" she remarked with dignity.
A lineal descendant of an English earl could not have uttered the words "our family" with more hauteur. I felt the rebuke.
"Besides," she added, naïvely, "the store-keeper trusted me fur 'em."