"
"Ah, yes," croaked Mrs. Crabbe; "off they go."
"If it isn't one thing," said Mrs. Ploughman, "it's another. Trouble
and death--that's a woman's lot in this world, like the Good Book says."
"Death is the end of everything," remarked Mrs. Crabbe.
"I'm not afraid to die," Mrs. Ploughman declared. "There's things to
do the other side of the grave, same as here. And it's a joy to do
them, in the light of the Lord. I can tell you, Mrs. Crabbe, I won't
be sorry to go. My folks are waiting there for me." Her voice
trembled, and she rocked up and down to compose herself. "He needn't
try to mix me up," she thought to herself; "not in my own home. No."
"Then," said Mr. Jeminy, "you believe in an after life, Mrs. Ploughman?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Ploughman firmly, directing her remarks to Mrs.
Crabbe, "I do. I believe there's a life hereafter, when our sorrows
will be repaid us. There weren't all those hearts broke for nothing,
Mrs. Crabbe, nor for what's going on here now, with strikes, and
famine, and bloody murders.
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