Do come right along.
Wait till I get on my things." She threw a shawl over her shoulders, draped a white knitted "cloud" over her head, and took from a nail a key, attached by a strong cord to a block of wood eight inches long.
"Elkanah left the key with me," she observed.

"No danger of losin' it, is there.

Might as well lose a lumber yard.

Old Parson Langley tied it up this way, so he wouldn't miss his moorin's, I presume likely.

The poor old thing was so nearsighted and absent-minded along toward the last that they say he used to hire Noah Myrick's boy to come in and look him over every Sunday mornin' before church, so's to be sure he hadn't got his wig on stern foremost.