Once more Quincy's breakfast was on the stove being kept warm, and once
more Mrs. Hawkins was waiting impatiently for him to come down.
Betsy Green and she were washing the breakfast dishes. How happy Eve
must have been in Eden, where there was no china, no knives and forks,
and no pots and kettles, and what an endless burden of commonplace
drudgery she entailed upon her fair sisters when she fell from her high
estate. Man's labor is uniformly productive, but woman's, alas! is still
almost as uniformly simply preservative.
"Mr. Sawyer," said Mrs. Hawkins to Betsy Green, "is no doubt a very nice
young man, but I shouldn't want him for a steady boarder, 'less he got
up on time and eat his meals reg'lar."
"I s'pose he's all tired out," remarked Betsy. "He had a pretty hard day
of it yesterday, you know, Mis' Hawkins."
"Wall, I s'pose I ought to be kinder easy on him on that account. I must
say he managed things fust rate."
"How did the brides look?" asked Betsy.
Poor girl, she was one of the few who were not able to view the grand
sight.
"I can think of no word to express my feelin's," replied Mrs.
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