"A great day," she repeated sadly, taking an audible sip of her coffee.

"A great day?" repeated little Mrs. Gibson with a puzzled air, quickly
recalling her abstracted thoughts.

"Yes. Nobody ever thought anybody in Sabbath Valley would ever be tried
for murder!"

"Oh!" said Mrs. Gibson sharply, drawing back her chair as if she were
in a hurry and rolling up her napkin quickly.

"Yes, poor Mark Carter! I remember his sweet little face and his long
yellow curls and his baby smile as if it were yesterday!" narrowing her
eyes and harrowing her voice, "I wonder if his poor mother knows yet."

"I should hope not!" said Mrs. Gibson rising precipitately and
wandering over to the window where hung a gilded canary cage. "Mrs.
Frost, did you remember to give the canary some seed and fresh water?"

"Yes, I b'lieve so," responded the fat lady, "But you can't keep her
from knowing it always. Whatt'll you do when he's hung? Don't
you think it would be easier for; her to get used to it little by
little?"

"Mrs. Frost, if you were a dog would you rather have your tail cut off
all at once, or little by little?" said Mrs. Gibson mischievously.

"I shouldn't like to have it cut off at all I'm quite sure," said Mrs.
Frost frostily.