There is some folks that can be cheerful when their house is a-burnin' down before their eyes, and I've heard of one young man that laughed at his aunt's funeral," directing a severe glance at Jack; "but I'm not one of that kind.

I think, with the Scriptures, that there's a time to weep." "Doesn't it say there's a time to laugh, too ?" asked Mrs.Harding.
"When I see anything to laugh about, I'm ready to laugh," said Aunt Rachel; "but human nater ain't to be forced.

I can't see anything to laugh at now, and perhaps you won't by and by." It was evidently quite useless to persuade Rachel to cheerfulness, and the subject dropped.
The tea things were cleared away by Mrs.Harding, who then sat down to her sewing.

Aunt Rachel continued to knit in grim silence, while Jack seated himself on a three-legged stool near his aunt, and began to whittle out a boat, after a model lent him by Tom Piper, a young gentleman whose aunt has already been referred to.
The cooper took out his spectacles, wiped them carefully with his handkerchief, and as carefully adjusted them to his nose.

He then took down from the mantelpiece one of the few books belonging to his library--"Dr.Kane's Arctic Explorations"-- and began to read, for the tenth time, it might be, the record of these daring explorers.
The plain little room presented a picture of graceful tranquillity, but it proved to be only the calm which preceded the storm.
The storm in question, I regret to say, was brought about by the luckless Jack.