There isn't many old _par_ish'ners like her, I doubt." "And they say she'd took as much physic as 'ud fill a wagon," observed Mr.Pullet.
"Ah!" sighed Mrs.Pullet, "she'd another complaint ever so many years before she had the dropsy, and the doctors couldn't make out what it was.

And she said to me, when I went to see her last Christmas, she said, 'Mrs.Pullet, if ever you have the dropsy, you'll think o' me.' She _did_ say so," added Mrs.Pullet, beginning to cry bitterly again; "those were her very words.

And she's to be buried o' Saturday, and Pullet's bid to the funeral." "Sophy," said Mrs.Glegg, unable any longer to contain her spirit of rational remonstrance,--"Sophy, I wonder _at_ you, fretting and injuring your health about people as don't belong to you.

Your poor father never did so, nor your aunt Frances neither, nor any o' the family as I ever heard of.

You couldn't fret no more than this, if we'd heared as our cousin Abbott had died sudden without making his will." Mrs.Pullet was silent, having to finish her crying, and rather flattered than indignant at being upbraided for crying too much.