As Patsy lay cold in death Caleb had a pleasant dream. He dreamed that she was well and at the washtub. He thought he held in his hand money she had drawn in advance for him. When he awoke the next morning and found it was but a dream he lighted the stump of a cigar; and, between puffs, mumbled something about starch-eating mothers and dignified sons. When a neighbor called to see what Patsy would have for breakfast, he said: "Ask the old woman."
The next day Noah, the father of Melviny, the grave-digger for the poor, said: "Melviny, my child, I go to dig poor Patsy's grave."
"Poor Caleb!" said Melviny, and covered her face with her apron.
Noah's hands fell to his side, leaving the spade dangling about his neck.
"So is Caleb, father." Melviny dropped her apron and began to toy with the spade. "Dear father, you are kind to the neighbors."
"Dear child, you are making your own perdition."
"I go to bury Patsy in the potter's field."
"I go to bury Caleb in my affections, that he may be resurrected a man."
"The first," said he, "is for your mother, who was a wise woman."
"In marrying you, father? I never heard her say so in her curtain lectures. Why didn't you say she was a brave woman?"
"Cling to facts, father. Remember, you will soon be on the brink of the grave."
"The second is for your innocence," said he, kissing her again. "The third--the third----"
"Is for what, father? Say it's to encourage Caleb in his wooing. Say it, father."
"'Tis my dying kiss--my curse. Go! When he drags you to want and death, you will see how foolish you have been."
"When I lift him to honor and life the world will see how wise and heroic I have been. That extra kiss, father?"
"I see it now, father. That's to commend my heroism. You would say so in words, but you are a bit too human at present. Poor Patsy is to be buried in a pauper's grave; poor Caleb in my affections. Your task is noble. No parting word for me? None? I go not alone."
"You go not alone, for the fires of tribulation go with you," said Noah, and shouldered his spade.
As Noah crossed the bridge leading to the potter's field he met Caleb.
"Hello, old graybeard!" This was Caleb's salutation. "I jilted the cobbler's Mary for your Melviny. A mess of perdition she is. You have the honor of burying my mother; I would have the pleasure of marrying your daughter. 'Tis a fair exchange. Speak the word; the magistrate is waiting for his fee. You won't? Your beard is a foot long."