A SUMMONS HOME
Mrs. Thaddeus Clayton came softly into the room and looked with apprehensive eyes upon the little old man in the rocking–chair.
"How be ye, dearie? Yer hain't wanted fer nothin', now, have ye?" she asked.
"Not a thing, Harriet," he returned cheerily. "I'm feelin' real pert, too. Was there lots there? An' did Parson Drew say a heap o' fine things?"
Mrs. Clayton dropped into a chair and pulled listlessly at the black strings of her bonnet.
"'T was a beautiful fun'ral, Thaddeus—a beautiful fun'ral. I—I 'most wished it was mine."
"Harriet!"
She gave a shamed–faced laugh.
"Well, I did—then Jehiel and Hannah Jane would 'a' come, an' I could 'a' seen 'em." The horrified look on the old man's face gave way to a broad smile.
"Oh, Harriet—Harriet!" he chuckled, "how could ye
