It had something to do with the Jews, she did not know exactly what.

Mere Jeanne had told her, but she forgot just how it was.

But as to their not coming at all, that would be out of the question, for how would the good God know what was going on down here, or know who was behaving well and meriting a crown of glory, and who should go down into the pit?
Did not Abby see that?
Abby privately thought that here was strange heathen talk to be going on in her kitchen; but she said nothing, only gave her guest more jam, and said she was eating nothing,--the proper formula for a good hostess, no matter how much the guest may have devoured.
It was true, as has been said before, that Abby Rock was not fair to outward view.

Nature had been in a crabbed mood when she fashioned this gaunt, angular form, these gnarled, unlovely features.

An uncharitable neighbour, in describing Abby, once said that she looked as if she had swallowed an old cedar fence-rail and shrunk to it; and the description was apt enough so far as the body went.