"
"I should hope so!" said Mrs. Whittle, with vague fervor.
The sight of a toiling wagon supporting a huge barrel caused her to
change the subject rather abruptly.
"That's Jacob Merrill's team," she said, craning her neck. "What on
earth has he got in that hogs-head?"
"He's headed for Lydia Orr's spring, I shouldn't wonder," surmised
Mrs. Daggett. "She told Henry to put up a notice in the post office
that folks could get all the water they wanted from her spring. It's
running, same as usual; but, most everybody else's has dried up."
"I think the minister ought to pray for rain regular from the pulpit
on Sunday," Mrs. Whittle advanced. "I'm going to tell him so."
"She's going to do a lot better than that," said Mrs. Daggett....
"For the land sake, Dolly! I ain't urged you beyond your strength,
and you know it; but if you don't g'long--"
A vigorous slap of the reins conveyed Mrs. Daggett's unuttered threat
to the reluctant animal, with the result that both ladies were
suddenly jerked backward by an unlooked for burst of speed.
"I think that horse is dangerous, Abby," remonstrated Mrs. Whittle,
indignantly, as she settled her veil. "You ought to be more careful
how you speak up to him."
"I'll risk him!" said Mrs. Daggett with spirit. "It don't help him
none to stop walking altogether and stand stock still in the middle
of the road, like he was a graven image. I'll take the whip to him,
if he don't look out!"
Mrs. Whittle gathered her skirts about her, with an apprehensive
glance at the dusty road.
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