“Yes,” said Tant Sannie, and sighed.
“She was such a good wife, aunt: I’ve known her break a churn-stick over a maid’s head for only letting dust come on a milk cloth.”
Tant Sannie felt a twinge of jealousy. She had never broken a churn-stick on a maid’s head.
“I hope your wife made a good end,” she said.
“Oh, beautiful, aunt: she said up a psalm and two hymns and a half before she died.”
“Did she leave any messages?” asked Tant Sannie.
“No,” said the young man; “but the night before she died I was lying at the foot of her bed; I felt her foot kick me.
“‘Piet,’ she said.
“‘Annie, my heart,’ said I.
“‘My little baby that died yesterday has been here, and it stood over the wagon-box,’ she said.