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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 74, December, 1863"


Ann Mipps, meanwhile, who had been at her scrubbing since four o'clock,
so that she should be through and have on her pink calico before the
milk-cart rolled by, went in and cried herself sick: tasting the tears
now and then to see how bitter they were,--what a hard time she had in
the world; and then remembering she had not said her prayers last night,
and so comprehending this judgment on her. For the Mippses were
Calvinists, and pain was punishment and not a test. So Ann got up
comforted; said her prayers twice with a will, and went out to milk. It
might be different to-morrow. So as she had always thought how he needed
somebody to make him happy, poor Andy! And she thought _she_ understood
him. She knew how brave and noble he was! And she always thought, if he
could get the toll-gate, now that her father was so old, how snug that
would be!
"Oh, if that should happen, and--there wouldn't be a house in the world
so happy, if"--
And then her checks began to burn again, and the light came back in her
eyes, until, by the time the day had grown into the hot August noon, she
went laughing and buzzing in and out of the shady little toll-house as
contented as any bee in the clover yonder.


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