I may go before I've made up the dozen o' these last sizes.

The pill-boxes are in the closet in my room,--you'll remember that, sister,--but there's nothing to show for the boluses, if it isn't the bills." "Don't talk o' your going, sister," said Mrs.Tulliver; "I should have nobody to stand between me and sister Glegg if you was gone.

And there's nobody but you can get her to make it up with Mr.Tulliver, for sister Deane's never o' my side, and if she was, it's not to be looked for as she can speak like them as have got an independent fortin." "Well, your husband _is_ awk'ard, you know, Bessy," said Mrs.Pullet, good-naturedly ready to use her deep depression on her sister's account as well as her own.

"He's never behaved quite so pretty to our family as he should do, and the children take after him,--the boy's very mischievous, and runs away from his aunts and uncles, and the gell's rude and brown.

It's your bad luck, and I'm sorry for you, Bessy; for you was allays my favorite sister, and we allays liked the same patterns." "I know Tulliver's hasty, and says odd things," said Mrs.Tulliver, wiping away one small tear from the corner of her eye; "but I'm sure he's never been the man, since he married me, to object to my making the friends o' my side o' the family welcome to the house." "_I_ don't want to make the worst of you, Bessy," said Mrs.Pullet, compassionately, "for I doubt you'll have trouble enough without that; and your husband's got that poor sister and her children hanging on him,--and so given to lawing, they say.