"Smart ain't no word for 't," exclaimed Biah, with alertness. "Declar for 't,the grit o' that are woman beats me. Had eight children right along in astring 'thout stoppin', done all her own work, never kep' no gal nornothin'; allers up and dressed; allers to meetin' Sunday, and to theprayer-meetin' monthly, and never stops workin': when 'tan't one skinnygit really is another--cookin', washin', ironin', making butter and goat cheese, and'tween spells cuttin' and sewin', and if she ain't doin' that, why, she'sbraidin' straw to sell to the store or knitting--she's the perpetualmotion ready found, Mis' Pitkin is."

"Want ter know," exclaimed the auditor, as a sort of musical rest in thismonotone of talk. "Ain't she smart, though!"

"Smart! Well, I should think she was. She's over and into everythingthat's goin' on in that home. The deacon wouldn't know himself withouther; nor wouldn't none of them boys, they just live out of her; she kindo' keeps 'em all up."