Only think,--if he shouldn't come back at all! I heard somebody say, the other day, the world was coming to an end.

Miss Polly," said she, aloud, re-entering the barn, "isn't this the longest night you ever saw in all the days of your life ?" "Yes, it has been considerable long, I am free to confess," replied Polly, who thought she had had a very hard time keeping house, as was indeed the truth.
"Do you s'pose, Miss Polly, that some morning the sun won't rise any more ?" "O, yes," replied Miss Polly, who was always ready with a hymn:-- "'God reigns above,--he reigns alone; Systems burn out, and leave His throne.' "Why, yes, dear; the world will certainly come to an end one of these days; and _then_ the sun won't rise, of course; there won't be any sun." And Miss Polly began to hum one of her sorrowful tunes, beating time with the two streams of milk which dripped mournfully into the pail.
"She is afraid this is the end of the world," thought Dotty, with a throbbing heart, and a stifling sensation at the throat; "she don't believe the sun is ever going to rise any more." The music suddenly ceased.
"These are very poor cows," said Polly, in a reflective tone; "or else they don't give down their milk.

I understood you to say, Dotty, that Ruth milked very early." "If everything's coming to an end, it's no wonder the cows act so," said Dotty, to herself, but she dared not say it aloud.
They went into the house, the trail of Susy's long wrapper following after little Dotty Dimple like the closing feet in one of Polly's long-metre verses.

Still the moon shone with the same white, ghostly light, and the sun continued to keep away.
"This beats all," said Polly, mournfully; as she washed her hands, strained the milk, and set the pans away.

"If I judged by my feelings, I should say it must be six o'clock, or very near it.