"What is't amiss, then?" she said, as she came up to the gate.
"Look there!" he answered, pointing down. "A poor tramp dead in the road!"
The good woman looked, started, and her healthy, red cheeks turned white.
"Oh, my Heavenly Father!" she ejaculated. "Who is't, Jerry?"
"How should I know, woman?" asked her husband. "I've but just stepped outside the gate and found her."
"And is she really, truly dead, Jerry?"
"She looks like it," he said. "But stoop down and feel of her heart, Jane. See if it beats."
The woman came out of the gate, and bending down, put her hand half-timorously inside of Queenie's cloak and felt her heart.
"Yes—no—yes, it does beat just the leastest bit," she said. "Poor creature! Take her up and carry her into the kitchen, Jerry. Perhaps we may revive her."
"That's like your good heart, Jane," said the farmer, as he lifted up the limp form and conveyed it into the kitchen.